I’m sorry.
Never mind apologies right now, came his response.
He rested his forearms on the edge of the stage. “Still too much fear when the Captain grabs your arms. Julia is not truly afraid of him. She’s pushing him on purpose.”
“I know.” My voice was the velvety calm of Nadine, but I recognized an anxious note in it that she never had. “I’m trying.”
If you can’t handle Mr. Carrew grabbing you, how will you manage with Sir Harrington?
Clive Harrington was the vicimorph playing Captain Moffett. He was nearly as popular as Nadine—handsome in a dashing older-man sort of way, with flecks of silver in his black hair, and commanding dark eyes. I didn’t know him well, but Nadine was very comfortable with him since they were often cast opposite each other in shows. The gossip papers used to spin all sorts of romantic stories about them until Lord Deverey threatened to sue if they didn’t quit. There would be no way that Nadine would ever feel fear around him, unless it was part of the role. I had to get my emotions under control if I didn’t want my deception to be discovered.
I’ll get it, I promise.
“Keep going.”
Raymond gently took my arms again. I wanted to tell him not to coddle me, but we’d been over this scene so many times already, I hated to create yet another interruption. He repeated the line, “No, because you’re trouble.”
“Unhand me, Captain.” I said it the way I’d heard Nadine say it, low, almost purring, but with steel in my voice.
His eyes flared. Even with its imperfections, my magic was getting to him.
Great, my best friend was getting turned on by my potential mother.
Ew.
He pulled me closer. “On this ship, I give the orders, Miss Donovan.”
I was supposed to struggle against him. My nervous mind was only too willing. I yanked myself away entirely. “Is this how a gentleman treats a lady?”
I heard Dietrich sigh. His head drooped to his arms, still resting on the stage.
And just like that, my Nadine form vanished. I was in my own body again.
Thea and Raymond groaned in unison. Shifting me was hard work for everyone.
Dietrich’s head popped up, and he let out an even bigger sigh when he saw me standing there in my own form. But he didn’t so much as frown as he pulled his pocket watch from his waistcoat. “Three hours and twenty-four minutes. That’s a new record, Minx. Good job.”
It was sweet of him to compliment me even though I was doing so poorly in the scene.
“Thank you. Shall I shift again?”
“No, not yet.” He hoisted himself onto the stage. “I want you to try the scene again in your own form so you can focus on controlling your emotions.”
At least I won’t feel like such a cradle robber that way.
He didn’t try to hold back his laughter this time.
Raymond narrowed his eyes at the two of us. “Not fair. Do you all realize I’m the only one here who has no way of knowing what you’re saying?”
Dietrich and I laughed harder at that. Thea must not have been monitoring our thoughts because she just shrugged at Raymond, giving him a sympathetic smile.
Becoming serious again, Dietrich crossed the stage, up onto the ship’s deck. “Let me take the Captain’s part for a bit, Mr. Carrew.”
Raymond seated himself next to Thea in the front row, and Dietrich took his place by my side.
“Take it from ‘teach me,’” he said. “And Miss Wright—stay out.”
Thea giggled and promised to not use her magic.
I stood tall, but felt woefully short in my little Minx-body. “Teach me to captain your ship. It will make for a terrific story.”
“You’re insane,” he bit out, his voice rough. “I wouldn’t let you within two feet of the ship’s wheel.”
Probably because he’s so steamed for you, he’d sink the ship.
Dietrich’s commentary startled me. I flinched and stared up at him.
Your line, cariad. You’re sensing your power over him. You like it. You like teasing him.
A rush of desire poured over me. “Why, because I’m a journalist?”
Dietrich grabbed my arms. “No, because you’re trouble.”
His jaw was tight, his eyes stormy. He stared down at my mouth. My heart pounded.
But I hadn’t felt afraid.
That’s right. Beautiful, delectable trouble. And you damn well know it.
I arched up toward him. “Unhand me, Captain,” I growled.
Yes, that’s it. You’re saying unhand me, but you don’t really want that, do you?
I gave him a seductive smile in response.
He jerked me closer to him, rougher this time. “On this ship, I give the orders, Miss Donovan.”
Heat flared in my stomach. “Is this how a gentleman treats a lady?” I struggled against him, but not too much. I didn’t really want him to let me go.
Just enough to feel his hands tighten deliciously around me. He gave me a little shake. “You’re a stowaway, not a lady. You’re lucky I gave you a cabin instead of chaining you in the hold.”
He was breathing harder now. Heat radiated from his body.
See what you do to me?
You, or the captain?
What do you think?
My chin jutted up and I threw back my shoulders, drawing on Nadine’s magnificent outrage in my mind. “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Push me too far, and I’ll dare anything,” he ground out.
“Let me go!” I thrashed against him, feeling Julia’s potent mix of desire and anger. She didn’t like not being in control. And yet, she felt the thrill of the power she held over him.
He hauled me against him and kissed me fiercely. His heart beat hard and fast beneath my palm. This was what it was like to feel normal, to not be afraid at every touch. This awareness of my own strength and what I could evoke in him.
Someday, this would be real.
The script called for me to struggle against the kiss, and then melt into it and kiss him back. I poured all of Julia’s fury and passion into the kiss. His mouth, his heat, the smell of his skin warmed by the stage lights—he made it easy to forget who we were, to become this unrelenting sea captain and his fiery love.
The mental bond between us melted in a jumble of half-phrased thoughts and passion-hazed colors, images of desire. One hand cupped my head and the other slid down toward my ass.
That was not in the script.
I jerked away. I had to finish the scene. Panting, I stepped back, cheating out to the audience.
And slapped his face. Hard.
“Push me too far, and I’ll make your life hell.” I stormed past him, upstage, and exited down into the ship.
There was silence, and then enthusiastic applause from our tiny audience.
I scurried back up the steps onto the ship’s deck. “I’m so sorry, Dietrich! I wasn’t supposed to actually connect on that slap. I got carried away.”
He rubbed his reddened cheek, grinning. “It was worth it.”
I glanced toward the front row. Thea was laughing, her eyes shining. I didn’t need psychic magic to know she was thrilled that I’d finally nailed the scene. Raymond had applauded, and I knew he was proud of me for doing the scene properly. But when he met my eyes and then looked away, jaw tense, I knew he wasn’t very happy about that heated kiss.
Occupational hazard of courting an actress, I supposed.
An actress. Was I really? I didn’t know yet if I would be or not. It still seemed like this could be a one-off thing, just to keep Nadine safe. It didn’t mean I was going to take back my magic full-time.
Before I could muse too long over it, Dietrich took my hand and led me back to center stage. “Now, you’re going to shift and do it again. Just like that.”
So who gets to kiss Nadine—you or Raymond?
He laughed softly. Neither—we’re not practicing that part again. Mr. Carrew and I both need to be able to loo
k Dame Fairchild in the eyes tomorrow without blushing.
So you think the kiss was all right? I asked.
His smile was steamy. I think Harrington is a lucky bastard. And yes, it was perfect.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The next day was another Sunday, only eight days before opening night. Dietrich approached me after the church service as I was leaving the theater chapel with Raymond, Thea, and several other friends.
He bowed politely to the other apprentices and then stepped between them and me. “Miss Mellor, may I speak with you?”
“Of course.”
Herded off by Raymond and Thea, the others glanced back at us with curious—and envious—expressions.
“I need your help,” he said, when they were out of earshot. “It’s not as if either of us should be taking on any more trouble, but this is important.”
A golden heat lit my heart. Dietrich needed me. “Whatever it is, I’d be glad to do it.”
Surprise sparked in his eyes, followed by a sort of private amusement. Suddenly, a hot flush spread through me. “Whatever” could mean a lot of things, especially to a chap who couldn’t stop caressing me with his eyes when he thought I wasn’t looking.
But all he said was, “Let’s discuss it in my office.”
By the time we reached his office and he had offered me one of the carved wingback chairs, he was his usual somber self. He tugged the other wingback to face me more directly and sat on the edge of it, leaning his elbows on his knees.
His eyes were shadowed, full of concern. “I shouldn’t even ask this of you, not on top of everything else. But there isn’t anyone else who can do this.”
“I told you, I’m willing. No matter what.”
“We need to help Delphine.”
I still hadn’t spoken to her since my attempt to talk with her the day after she returned from Lucy Davies’ house. She had come out of seclusion a few days ago, and Master Fenrey had instructed those of us who knew the real story to tell everyone else she’d been ill and was still recovering. Her eyes looked as dead as her magic. I’d seen her at mealtimes and in church this morning, avoiding the stares and questions.
So alone.
Bennet Mason had tried to sit next to her at lunch, but she had said something vicious to him and then moved to an empty table in the corner, leaving him looking hurt and confused. Millicent Walsh and the rest of her group had stayed at their table, whispering and sneaking peeks at her.
It was impossible not to feel sorry for her. “What kind of help?”
“She told Dame Fairchild the final payment on her loan is due on Tuesday. If she doesn’t pay it, they’ll go after her brothers and sisters.”
Those underfed, ragged, ill little wretches—in the hands of the goons that attacked and raped their older sister. Just the thought of it made me want to hit something. “I’m in. What’s your plan?”
The approval in his eyes warmed me. “I’ve got the money.”
“It wasn’t a small amount! How do you have enough?”
I gasped and put my hand over my mouth. How utterly rude to comment about money.
He didn’t look upset. “I had some savings, and Dame Fairchild and Master Fenrey contributed as well. Master Fenrey also found a safer home for the children, where no one can harass them, and they can get the care they need.”
It must be amazing to have an income large enough to allow for savings and acts of charity. I certainly had never experienced it. But I would—soon. In less than a year, I’d be a Guild member and make money of my own.
I was going to make enough never to have to rely on a protector like Lord Deverey or ask for funds from a loan shark. And if I ever had a family, I’d be able to feed and take care of them. Money was freedom, and I was determined to earn it.
“So what do you need from me?” I asked now.
“Delphine is supposed to deliver the payment—to the same man who attacked her.”
“That’s too much to expect from anyone!”
“Exactly. She’s far too fragile to manage it. I thought maybe you…” His eyes pierced me.
His unspoken question hit me like a fist to my chest. I couldn’t breathe. “Oh Dietrich…no. You want—I can’t…” What the hell was I supposed to say? I’d promised to do anything he asked.
I just never thought it would be this.
He pinned me with those soul-seeking eyes. “I think you can. And it’s not like you’d go alone. I’d go with you. I’ll hide until you’ve made the payment, but I’ve got a score to settle with the bastard.”
A score to settle? A fiery black anger smoked my heart. The vermin hadn’t attacked me, but the score was personal nonetheless. “Fine. I’ll try. You’re going to need Thea and Raymond to help me, though. And I want to be in on the score-settling too, got it?”
“You’ve got an idea?”
“Hell yes. More than one. Many. Many delicious, vengeful ideas.”
He looked impressed. “Can you be ready to carry out one or two of them by Tuesday? We can’t let up on the rehearsal schedule.”
“For this—I’ll make the time.”
It was a good thing I didn’t have to go to training sessions. It required two late nights of technomancy—late even for me—and another trip to the reference section of the library and the apothecary and some Thea psychic magic. But by Tuesday evening, Dietrich and I met Raymond and Thea in the storage room below the theater for yet another foray through the tunnels.
The four of us were by this time a smoothly operating machine when it came to getting me shape-shifted. But this time, I wasn’t impersonating Nadine.
After the transformation had finished, I gave Raymond my haughtiest sneer. Undaunted, he walked around me, surveying our handiwork.
“Not bad. Not bad at all. But I have to say, you are still way cuter than the real Delphine. You just don’t look mean enough. Want to go out sometime?”
I tossed my now long auburn hair. “Aren’t you precious? But Mr. Carrew, I only go out with boys that have two eyes, not four.” I gave his spectacles a snide wave of my hand.
He winced, and I knew I’d scored a direct hit. The Minx part of me felt really bad about that, but I was too deep in the faux-Delphine’s soul to stop it.
“Ouch,” he said, faking a stab to his heart. “I take it back—you’re plenty mean. I think I like you better as Dame Fairchild.”
“I like her best as herself.” Thea surveyed me critically. “But this is really fine work. Good job, everyone.”
“We should go, we haven’t much time.” Dietrich unfastened the grate and motioned to me. “Ladies first, Miss Birdwell.”
“At least I won’t have a whole entourage this time.” My tone was so sharp and whiny, even I was a little disgusted by it. “Let’s get this over with.”
Dietrich followed me into the cavern, laughing softly. “I knew you’d do just great.”
“You’d better hope I can hold onto the shift long enough to pull this thing off.”
I hated feeling so grumpy and ill-tempered. It was like tromping through stinky mud. But Dietrich’s magic surrounded me.
Stay calm. You’re doing fine.
“Calm? You want me to stay calm? It’s bad enough to be in this bloody tunnel again, but I can’t stand the thought of looking that rat in the eyes and giving him money.”
We’d reached the second grate. Oddly, I didn’t feel very afraid of it—oh, the fear was there, but buried under layers and layers of Delphine waspishness.
If one had to have a Most Hated Foe, Delphine really was a useful one to have.
I kept up a steady stream of snippy remarks and complaints until at last Dietrich begged me to be quiet.
He shook his head, his elegant face looking strained. “Too bad you have such a hard time with the shift. Otherwise, you and I could have done it on our own once we were there.”
“Too bad I can’t get rid of you as easily as that.”
I had a feeling his temper was on t
he verge of being lost. But I couldn’t seem to stop myself. He drew a slow breath.
Diva bitch. The mental words were a soundless growl.
The corner of me that was still me had a good laugh about that, but the rest of my borrowed soul felt stung. Is that how the real Delphine felt inside? She was so nasty to most people, I forgot that she had feelings, too. The real Delphine would be worried about her family, terrified of facing her attacker again.
And probably didn’t like being called diva-bitch.
Oh no—don’t you dare start softening up now, Birdwell. Dietrich’s thoughts were stern, almost harsh. You’ll lose the shift. Stay in her soul. I’ll put up with you. Just keep it going.
We hurried through the rest of the tunnels in tense silence.
Above ground, Dietrich hid in the line of trees that ringed the park. I slung a small muslin pouch with the payment in it over my shoulder and waited for our contact by the tree where he’d attacked Delphine.
Since silver chains were useless to Delphine at the moment, Thea had coaxed her to open her mind so Thea could get a mental picture of the man we were waiting for. She’d then transferred it to Dietrich, who had shared it with me via our chain connection. An image passed through three people like that was a bit fuzzy, but it would be close enough for me to identify the man. Delphine didn’t know his name.
Several minutes went by. Where was he? What if he’d seen Dietrich duck into the trees and had left?
But before I could really begin to worry, I saw a dark form lumbering along the edge of the river. I knew it was him. He wasn’t fat, but he was tall and thick, solid—just the kind of muscled grunt a loan shark would want for terrorizing “clients.” His face came into view in the gas lamps lighting the park. Shadowed eyes, weathered face, a bulbous nose, and lips set in a permanent scowl.
A shot of fear sped through me. I couldn’t tell if it was my own or the not-Delphine’s, but it didn’t really matter.
I’m right here. Dietrich’s voice in my mind was steady, authoritative. You’ll be fine.
I angled myself so that I was facing the line of trees where Dietrich hid, with the big, solitary tree behind me. Deep breath. I could do this.
Chains of Silver: a YA Theater Steampunk Novel (Alchemy Empire Book 1) Page 33
