Midnight Jewel
Page 49
“Then let me do more,” I blurted out. “Take me along.” Aiana’s disapproving face flitted through my mind, and I promptly disregarded it.
“No.”
“When are you going to get an opportunity this good? And you know I can handle myself.”
“Handle yourself? Sneaking into Cape Triumph isn’t the same as breaking and entering.”
“I did it on the ship. Remember? When I effortlessly uncovered all your secrets?”
“Don’t even start.” He looked me over, and I could almost see his thoughts spinning. This was a good opportunity, one he desperately wanted. “You’re a little overdressed. Or maybe underdressed? That bodice looks . . .”
“Distracting?” I suggested.
“Cold.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll change so that you can focus on the job.”
“As if I’d— Look, this is serious. Miller lives in an upscale part of the city. His building is guarded, and the militia tends to patrol there more than other places. They’re bribed to. We’ve got to be careful.”
“Then we’d better make the most of our time. I’ll sneak out of the house like I did before.” I reconsidered, thinking about the long trip to and from Wisteria Hollow. “Actually . . . I’ll just save us the time and slip away as soon as this wraps up.”
“You don’t think they’ll notice they’re one girl short? They watch your every move. I’ve seen it tonight. Aiana never takes her eyes off you or the other two she’s in charge of.”
“Well, she obviously did for me to get back here. I’m telling you, don’t worry. I’ll find a way to change and sneak out. That’s not your problem. And I’ll leave her a note. Just so she doesn’t worry or report me missing.”
He gave an exasperated sigh, but I knew he’d already caved. “Great. Then I’m the one Aiana comes after and yells at tomorrow. There are a lot of words for ‘idiot’ and ‘bastard’ in our language, and she knows them all. I even think she invented some.”
“That,” I said, “is your problem.”
CHAPTER 14
THE END OF THE BALL WAS CHAOTIC—WHICH WAS PERFECT for me. Once the official dance schedule ended, brazen suitors tried to catch our girls’ attention for a quick, last-minute conversation or compliment. I managed to obtain a scrap of paper and scrawled G.E. on it. Aiana was tied up with a group of men all trying to talk to her at once. Some complained about their dance cards, and others wanted to schedule future meetings. All the chaperones were in similar situations. I got someone to deliver my note to her, and then I darted out of the main hall. She would understand the meaning, but I doubted she’d be able to break free fast enough to stop me. I was also certain she’d cover for me—but wouldn’t be happy about it. The back room was empty, but the door had been propped open, revealing lingering mercenaries and the arrival of our coaches. Mistress Culpepper had had extra boxes of dresses and accessories brought along, just in case, and I was relieved to see they hadn’t been loaded up yet. It was going to get very busy back here, very quickly, and I immediately began rummaging through the boxes’ contents. Finding a blonde wig similar to my last one was easy. But inconspicuous clothes were harder to locate. I finally stripped off my elaborate overdress and decided to just wear the opaque black chemise underneath. I managed to locate gloves and a velvet mask but no suitable cloak. Desperate and pressed for time, I snatched up a wide, burlap tarp and draped it over my head and body like a cloak, pinning it with a spare broach. I rolled up the overdress into a big satin bundle that I carried under my arm. I tried not to think about the wrinkles.
The mercenaries weren’t on alert yet, and once I made it past them, it was easy to walk through town to the address Grant had given me. It was a second-floor loft space like Silas’s, except above a bakery instead of a tailor. The entrance was on the building’s side, away from the main thoroughfare. All the better to conduct clandestine business, I supposed.
“This is yours?” I asked when he let me in. Grant’s new lodging smelled like fresh bread. The space consisted of a tiny living area and, from what I could see through a half-open door, an even smaller bedroom that was completely taken over by the bed. It was also the only piece of furniture he had. There was no kitchen either, and I wondered how he ate. “You should get some furniture or decorations. Right now, it looks like a ghost lives here.”
“I’ve been a ghost for a long time. I don’t mind it. And look, you’re wrong about decorations. I’ve got a mirror over by the door.”
“Yeah, but that’s not for aesthetics. It’s to put on your disguises. When are we going out?”
He peered at my burlap cloak. “As soon as I figure out what exactly it is you’re wearing.”
“I didn’t have a lot of options,” I said defensively, trying to smooth out the tarp.
He tossed me a bundle that had been sitting on the floor. “Good thing one of us has access to a supply store.”
I unrolled the clothes and found pants and a real cloak made of drab but rugged fabric. There was also a plain, button-up shirt cut for a man but small enough for me. I changed in the bedroom, impressed that he had guessed my size correctly. “No boots that little,” he said later, nodding toward the black dance slippers on my feet. “You going to be able to walk in those?”
“I’ve been doing it all night.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell him how much my leg was hurting.
Abraham Miller lived just outside the bustle of Cape Triumph’s heart, not far from the town green, which I had yet to see. Here, stately homes and town houses lined quiet streets free from the heavy foot traffic that businesses attracted. Grant—still in his earlier disguise—led me toward a group of identical white town houses. We stopped in the shadows of a cluster of newly planted saplings and watched as a man paced the block in front of us, pausing once to light a pipe.
“No.”
“When are you going to get an opportunity this good? And you know I can handle myself.”
“Handle yourself? Sneaking into Cape Triumph isn’t the same as breaking and entering.”
“I did it on the ship. Remember? When I effortlessly uncovered all your secrets?”
“Don’t even start.” He looked me over, and I could almost see his thoughts spinning. This was a good opportunity, one he desperately wanted. “You’re a little overdressed. Or maybe underdressed? That bodice looks . . .”
“Distracting?” I suggested.
“Cold.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll change so that you can focus on the job.”
“As if I’d— Look, this is serious. Miller lives in an upscale part of the city. His building is guarded, and the militia tends to patrol there more than other places. They’re bribed to. We’ve got to be careful.”
“Then we’d better make the most of our time. I’ll sneak out of the house like I did before.” I reconsidered, thinking about the long trip to and from Wisteria Hollow. “Actually . . . I’ll just save us the time and slip away as soon as this wraps up.”
“You don’t think they’ll notice they’re one girl short? They watch your every move. I’ve seen it tonight. Aiana never takes her eyes off you or the other two she’s in charge of.”
“Well, she obviously did for me to get back here. I’m telling you, don’t worry. I’ll find a way to change and sneak out. That’s not your problem. And I’ll leave her a note. Just so she doesn’t worry or report me missing.”
He gave an exasperated sigh, but I knew he’d already caved. “Great. Then I’m the one Aiana comes after and yells at tomorrow. There are a lot of words for ‘idiot’ and ‘bastard’ in our language, and she knows them all. I even think she invented some.”
“That,” I said, “is your problem.”
CHAPTER 14
THE END OF THE BALL WAS CHAOTIC—WHICH WAS PERFECT for me. Once the official dance schedule ended, brazen suitors tried to catch our girls’ attention for a quick, last-minute conversation or compliment. I managed to obtain a scrap of paper and scrawled G.E. on it. Aiana was tied up with a group of men all trying to talk to her at once. Some complained about their dance cards, and others wanted to schedule future meetings. All the chaperones were in similar situations. I got someone to deliver my note to her, and then I darted out of the main hall. She would understand the meaning, but I doubted she’d be able to break free fast enough to stop me. I was also certain she’d cover for me—but wouldn’t be happy about it. The back room was empty, but the door had been propped open, revealing lingering mercenaries and the arrival of our coaches. Mistress Culpepper had had extra boxes of dresses and accessories brought along, just in case, and I was relieved to see they hadn’t been loaded up yet. It was going to get very busy back here, very quickly, and I immediately began rummaging through the boxes’ contents. Finding a blonde wig similar to my last one was easy. But inconspicuous clothes were harder to locate. I finally stripped off my elaborate overdress and decided to just wear the opaque black chemise underneath. I managed to locate gloves and a velvet mask but no suitable cloak. Desperate and pressed for time, I snatched up a wide, burlap tarp and draped it over my head and body like a cloak, pinning it with a spare broach. I rolled up the overdress into a big satin bundle that I carried under my arm. I tried not to think about the wrinkles.
The mercenaries weren’t on alert yet, and once I made it past them, it was easy to walk through town to the address Grant had given me. It was a second-floor loft space like Silas’s, except above a bakery instead of a tailor. The entrance was on the building’s side, away from the main thoroughfare. All the better to conduct clandestine business, I supposed.
“This is yours?” I asked when he let me in. Grant’s new lodging smelled like fresh bread. The space consisted of a tiny living area and, from what I could see through a half-open door, an even smaller bedroom that was completely taken over by the bed. It was also the only piece of furniture he had. There was no kitchen either, and I wondered how he ate. “You should get some furniture or decorations. Right now, it looks like a ghost lives here.”
“I’ve been a ghost for a long time. I don’t mind it. And look, you’re wrong about decorations. I’ve got a mirror over by the door.”
“Yeah, but that’s not for aesthetics. It’s to put on your disguises. When are we going out?”
He peered at my burlap cloak. “As soon as I figure out what exactly it is you’re wearing.”
“I didn’t have a lot of options,” I said defensively, trying to smooth out the tarp.
He tossed me a bundle that had been sitting on the floor. “Good thing one of us has access to a supply store.”
I unrolled the clothes and found pants and a real cloak made of drab but rugged fabric. There was also a plain, button-up shirt cut for a man but small enough for me. I changed in the bedroom, impressed that he had guessed my size correctly. “No boots that little,” he said later, nodding toward the black dance slippers on my feet. “You going to be able to walk in those?”
“I’ve been doing it all night.” I certainly wasn’t going to tell him how much my leg was hurting.
Abraham Miller lived just outside the bustle of Cape Triumph’s heart, not far from the town green, which I had yet to see. Here, stately homes and town houses lined quiet streets free from the heavy foot traffic that businesses attracted. Grant—still in his earlier disguise—led me toward a group of identical white town houses. We stopped in the shadows of a cluster of newly planted saplings and watched as a man paced the block in front of us, pausing once to light a pipe.
