The Midnight Dance, page 15
She quickly was lost in their discussion of the art of warfare and could only nod her head with Gideon at regular intervals.
The meal was a series of courses and presentation. Soup was served for the primo course: a light broth of tomato and basil filled with winter squash, beans, and small pasta shaped into stars. After the bowls were whisked away, platters of salt cod, stuffed sausage, lobster, and lamb made up the secondo, followed by dishes of rosemary potatoes and asparagus and zucchini crudi for the contorno. Every time the door opened, Penny felt her pulse jump at the sight of Cricket. His eyes were even paler in contrast to the black attire, and the cut of the jacket showed off his broad shoulders. His hair was damp and slicked back, which added depth to his cheekbones and jawline. He passed by her table and she longed to touch his arm, if only briefly.
“Not hungry?” the prince asked.
She pushed flaky bits of fish around her plate.
It wasn’t that Penny felt particularly full; it was more that her bodice strained with each inhale. She’d hardly have room for the dolce, and that was all she really cared about. She shook her head and nibbled on a bit of asparagus. “I’m nervous is all.”
“You have nothing to be nervous about. You’ll perform beautifully. I have no doubt.” He grinned, his full lips pulling up on one side. Penny couldn’t help but smile in response. She liked the prince, his self-assurance. It must be nice growing up with everything you ever wanted at your fingertips.
The meal finally concluded with immense trays of zuppa inglese. Penny indulged and let the savory custard and lemon zest dissolve on her tongue. The musicians began to play a lively tune and the prince rose to his feet beside her, the cane grasped in his right hand. He bent at the waist and held out his left hand. “Would you honor me with this dance?”
Penny really did not want to. Not publicly. Not at all. She opened her mouth, hoping some excuse would tumble out, and as if by magic Master loomed over them. “I won’t allow it.” His voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s an invalid.”
The words were matter-of-fact, almost childlike, but Penny flinched all the same. “That’s … that’s not true.” She twisted and rose from her chair. “We’ll manage just fine.” She grabbed the prince’s hand and steered him into a wood-floored clearing near the musicians. His cane tapped a rhythm at his side. Penny’s jaw clenched and her back teeth ground against one another. She couldn’t believe Master’s behavior.
“Don’t worry about him. It’s all jealousy.” The prince slipped ahead and spun lightly so he faced her. “You should see the way he looks at you.” His left hand circled around her back and brushed her side. “It’s adoration at its best.”
Penny doubted that. Master didn’t adore her. He wanted to control her, wanted to control all the girls.
The musicians eased into a slow waltz and Penny let the prince lead her in a few turns. She could feel everyone’s eyes on them, could only imagine from Bianca’s snarl that she held the guests’ attention, but she tried to tune them out. “Tell me more about the palace, about your time with Beppe.”
The prince grinned, no doubt more than happy to continue talking about himself. He painted a vision of a grander version of the manor, more acreage, more splendors within the walls. “I’ll admit that the recovery itself was rather dull. I spent most of my hours watching Beppe at work. It was fascinating, the tools and procedures he implemented. There was this one device—”
“I am cutting in.” Master gripped Penny’s elbow. A flood of chills coursed through her body. The prince sputtered out protests, but Master had already moved her toward the center of the floor. “You looked as if you needed saving.”
Penny blinked at him, her thoughts whirling faster than her skirts. She had to play docile and doting even though it went against most of the instincts in her body. “Thank you.”
Master led her with precision, his movements light and graceful. He pulled her in and away, spun her effortlessly, and danced with ease around the floor. Soon enough other couples joined them, her sorelle dancing with gentlemen of all ages.
The prince gripped her arm as the next dance started, continuing his conversation exactly where he’d left off. “It had this dial that could change the interval of electrical pulses sent to a nerve. But it wasn’t connected. The machine was in another room. I still don’t understand how he did it. But—”
Penny could sense Master before he cut in. The prince stepped just off to the side, waiting until his next chance. It was a game of possession and posturing, and she quickly grew tired of being the prize trophy.
“Beppe did tell me one thing,” the prince resumed his story. “He always builds a fail-safe into his equipment. In case there is a malfunction, he has a way to stop it. Isn’t that genius? I wish I had his foresight and medical knowledge. Not that I’d be able to put it to use. Medicine and politics don’t often work together.”
Master was at her side just as the band switched to a lively polka. Penny’s feet dragged to a stop. “Master. I … my ankle. Is it all right if I sit down for a moment?”
He must’ve seen something in her face, in her eyes, because he ushered her back to the table. “Stay here. I don’t want you to move.”
Penny nodded. She had no plans to. As soon as Master turned back to the dance floor, whisking Bianca away from her consort, she looked around for Cricket. The kitchen staff had tapered off when the music began, appearing only to freshen drinks or remove any last remaining dishes. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.
The prince collapsed in the seat next to her and gulped the remaining wine in his glass. “Why the forlorn look? It doesn’t suit you.”
Penny forced a yawn. “I’m tired is all.”
Master moved to the edge of the dance floor and spoke loudly over the din. “I want to thank everyone for coming. You are more than welcome to stay and enjoy the music, but I must escort the girls back to their chambers so they may rest. I look forward to showing them off two evenings hence.”
The prince lifted Penny’s hand and brushed his lips against her knuckles. “Sleep well.”
She pushed back her chair and nearly smacked into Master. His green eyes flashed nearly the same color as her gown. “Come.”
There was no arguing.
He held out his elbow as a chivalrous display and Penny threaded her arm through. The other girls huddled behind them, waving at the guests and tittering behind their hands. Only Bianca remained quiet. She stood on Master’s other side and glared at Penny. They exited the hall and made their way as a group to the dormitory. Master bid good night to each girl individually at her room, never releasing Penny’s arm. Bianca was the final girl. He told her to sleep well. She slammed the door without even a response. Master ignored the transgression and ushered Penny to her chamber.
The door closed, and he released her arm. It left her with a sudden lack of warmth and a very strong sense of disconcertion. She shouldn’t miss the touch of this man who had done such despicable things, a man who forced people to serve under his control.
They stood facing each other, Penny’s back to her bed. Gooseflesh dotted her arms as the cool draft in the room settled around her.
Master reached inside his jacket and removed something from a pocket within. He held his palm out. Inside rested a small oval painted portrait framed in delicate brass. It was a beautiful woman with porcelain skin and a soft smile that lifted her rose lips.
Penny looked quizzically at Master.
“It’s your mother.” He seemed to be watching her reaction, so she swallowed down a gasp. She wondered if the image was of her true mother or if it was merely another ploy, a falsehood of a memory. She couldn’t know, but she truly hoped it was her mother, that it was something to go by if she could ever escape to search for her family.
“Thank you. I shall cherish it always.”
“It’s a peace offering.” He took her wrist with his free hand and placed the portraiture in her palm. “You said this week has been difficult, and I’m sure you miss her.”
She thanked him again and turned to lay the portrait on the stand next to her bed.
Master’s hands were warm on her shoulders as he rotated her slowly back around. His eyes could have burned through stone, they shone so bright. His gaze shifted to her lips and then back to her eyes. He stepped in closer, his knee brushing her lower thigh, nudging her skirts. His lips neared hers and his eyes settled closed.
As if he was about to kiss her.
CHAPTER
25
Penny sucked in a breath and pulled back. Her hands splayed wide to push against his chest, her fingers pressing against the thin length of cord that stretched beneath his shirt.
She knew it was the wrong thing to do, by the way his nostrils flared and his eyes turned several shades darker.
He straightened his lapel and stood tall. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”
“No.” Penny tried to make eye contact, tried to calm him down. “I didn’t mean to stop you.” She twisted her hands. “It was so sudden. And … and I don’t feel worthy.”
“We both know that’s not true.” The words were sad, resigned. But then anger masked his features. “Perhaps if you weren’t so attracted to the kitchen help, we wouldn’t have this problem.” She couldn’t help but flinch. He stepped away. “It’s time for you to rest.”
His fingers reached out to grip her chin so tightly the skin bruised against her teeth. “There’s no need to be upset. Once the gala is over, I’ll convince you that you belong to me. And only me.”
She’d made a huge error, an insurmountable mistake. She should’ve let him kiss her, convinced him that she cared for him. Instead, he was angry with her, and Cricket, and who knew what he’d do when he returned to his quarters. Tamper with her memories, that much was obvious.
Master released her chin and she apologized again. He held up his hand to cut her off. “Please let it be. I thought tonight would be different. I was wrong. It wasn’t the first time, but it will certainly be the last.”
Penny swallowed hard.
“Sleep well, Penelope.” He spun on his heel and shut the door behind him. At least he didn’t lock it.
She stood in stunned silence, staring at the dark wood panel. She couldn’t let Master destroy the truths that she’d learned. Not tonight. Not after the gala. Not anytime.
She no longer had a choice. She couldn’t wait for Beppe. She had to end this herself.
Penny performed a feat worthy of an acrobat in order to dismantle the corseted bodice and slide out of the gown. It lay discarded on the floor as she slipped into her bedclothes. She turned down her lamp and snuck out of the room.
She wound through the manor toward Cricket’s chamber, but found herself stopping at the entrance to the hall where she’d found the door leading to nowhere. There had to be something there, beyond that brick wall.
Penny tugged on a strand of loose hair before she ran the rest of the way to the servants’ wing.
The door was open before she even reached it, as if he knew. Cricket waited inside, sitting on the edge of his mattress with his hands buried in his hair. He stood as soon as she walked in. “Is everything all right?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you were Master’s nephew?” It wasn’t what she’d come there to say, but she had to know the truth.
One of Cricket’s eyebrows rose toward the low ceiling. “I thought you knew. Everyone knows.”
She frowned. “But I didn’t. I don’t. And I can’t fathom why Master would remove that knowledge from my memories.”
“I’m not sure.” Cricket shrugged. “He probably wanted to destroy as many thoughts of me as possible.” His lips pursed and he brushed his knuckles over his jaw. “You know I wouldn’t lie to you, or keep it from you on purpose.” His eyes caught hers. “I don’t consider him any sort of relative of mine. I have no loyalty to him, Penny. I promise you that. He never even acknowledges me as his family.”
“I know,” Penny said. She exhaled a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. She did know. And she did trust him, but she still couldn’t tell him about the near kiss with Master. “I need your help. The evening ended rather horribly. Master walked me to my room and seemed to want … a different reaction. He said that after the gala he’d convince me that I belonged to him.”
“That doesn’t sound very promising.”
Penny would’ve laughed if the situation weren’t so dire. “No. Not exactly.”
“Do you think he’ll do anything tonight?”
“Yes.” She wrapped her arms across her chest. “I really do.”
“What should we do? Do you think you can sneak past the wolves?” Cricket reached out his palms and barely brushed the arm of her sleeves. The gesture was in such stark contrast to Master gripping her arm earlier. She felt safe with Cricket.
Safe enough to admit she was seeing other things.
“There’s something I want to try first.” She told him about the walled doorway in the corridor nearby. “I have this memory of stairs and a tunnel beneath the manor. If there’s something down there that will help us, some sort of information, I think we should go. Now, before he tries to manipulate my thoughts.”
He nodded without pause. “Lead the way.”
Together they crept through the silent hallway. When they turned into the dark corridor, Penny slowed her pace. The air was icy, causing her to shiver beneath her thin nightshirt. Only one lamp was lit, at the entrance to the hall, and it cast the opposite wall in shadow. They kept to the dark side of the passage and scooted along its edge until Penny pointed out the door. Her pulse steadied only slightly. At least it was still here, with its ornate carving and dull brass handle. She took a deep breath and pulled it open.
The brick wall barred any entrance.
“Do you see it?” she whispered.
Cricket reached out his arm and Penny watched it disappear through the solid gray stone. “See what?”
Her nose wrinkled as she braced her palms on the bricks and pushed against the wall. It didn’t budge. She turned around and leaned her back against it, putting all her weight against the stones. Cricket grabbed her arm. “You’ll fall!”
“No. I won’t.” She banged her fist against the stone. “It’s solid rock.”
“Watch.” Cricket brushed past her and his foot pushed through the wall as if it were silk. Another step and his entire body had disappeared.
“Cricket,” Penny whispered. It was disconcerting to see him vanish like that. She had no idea what was on the other side.
He stuck his head out, like he was peering at her from between closed curtains. “There’s a light at the end of the stairwell. Shall I see what’s down there?”
Penny sighed, defeated. “I guess.”
He retracted his head and Penny slumped down against the opposite wall. She hated for Cricket to place himself in danger over some vision she may or may not have had.
She shut her eyes, placed her palms flat on the frigid floor at her sides, and willed herself to remember what was beyond the bricks. The thoughts slowly appeared, bits and pieces of memories. A pitch-black corridor that she descended, barefoot, her toes brushing the edge of each step before she lowered herself again. The air smelled sterile, chemical even. At the bottom the flooring changed to something smooth, like marble or metal. A harsh glow emanated from tiny bulb-shaped lights strung along in a fierce, straight line down the length of the hallway, a hallway that stretched forever, reflecting off the pale gray floor and walls.
Without realizing it, Penny had pushed herself to standing and walked toward the brick wall.
She could picture a row of steel doors, perfectly spaced on either side of the corridor. She passed the first ones, not caring what lay behind. Her only focus, her mind seemingly free of any other thoughts, was to enter the fifth door on the left.
Penny stumbled forward, her arms windmilling to stop her sudden pitch down the stairs as her eyes flew open. Steep steps descended away from her. She dared a glance behind her.
The bricks were gone.
Penny sprinted to the bottom. “Cricket!” She loudly whispered his name.
The corridor was exactly as she’d remembered, the strange bulbs casting a steady stream of light down its length. The first door she approached was sealed shut. She peered closer, forehead furrowed as she looked for a handle. The only spot marring the pale gray exterior was a narrow, raised bubble on the right-hand side at about chest level. It was circular in shape, nearly a centimeter in diameter, and had a small hole in the center.
The door across the hallway, and those farther along, looked exactly the same. She’d passed several before she noticed an open room ahead. A blue tinge of light filtered into the hall, and a slight scuffling noise came from within.
She tiptoed forward. “Cricket?”
He appeared in the door frame, a huge grin deepening his dimple. “You made it!” He ushered her inside. “How did you push through?”
“I’m not certain. I sort of visualized it and then found myself on the other side.” Her voice trailed off, her focus on the oddities of the room. The ceiling seemed to be constructed of a large, single tile, pulsing with a pale blue light. It cast a sheen on everything and turned her white chemise a glowing shade of azure. The room itself was barren of furniture and decoration. Running lengthwise on both sides were cabinets of floor-to-ceiling drawers. It appeared Cricket had started at the opposite end, as several of the compartments sat propped open.
“Have you found anything?” Penny asked.
“I’ve definitely found things, but not much that would help us.” He lifted a glass jar by its lid so Penny could see more clearly.
She flinched, nausea rolling in her stomach. Translucent green liquid, almost glowing in the strange light of the room, filled the jar to the top. A small bird floated within, its beady eyes staring ahead and its wings slick and oily.
