Ticker by Mantchev Lisa

Author:Mantchev, Lisa [Mantchev, Lisa]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub, mobi
Publisher: Skyscape
Published: 2014-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

NINE

In Which Our Heroine’s Social Circle Makes a Study of Fluid Dynamics

If war were to be waged, it would be in fashionable style. By the time I finished the considerable contents of my dinner tray, Violet returned with her composure and her evening frock. I don’t think either of us gave a china pig about our clothes, except as a disguise to aid in infiltrating enemy territory. The two of us prepared for battle standing before the mirrors in my room. Her wine-colored voile was caught up with small pinwheels of bronze and black, leaving a peep of striped silk stockings on display.

“Given half a chance,” she told me, adjusting fingerless black lace gloves, “I’ll strangle anyone who gets between us and Nic.”

“Agreed.” I studied myself in the looking glass. A careful application of actor’s greasepaint and face powder concealed the worst of the bruising, and Dreadnaught’s artful arrangement of my curls obscured the stitches on my forehead. Given a lack of options and time to send out for another gown, I’d donned one of my mother’s dresses: cinnamon silk, trimmed with freshwater pearls and silk confetti fringe. Mama wore it only once, the night of Dimitria’s birthday party. I felt like I’d raided a tomb to retrieve it from the trunk in the attic, but the scent of my mother’s rose water raised my courage to new heights.

I was going to find my family. I was going to see Warwick brought to justice.

“We’re very likely walking into a trap,” I said.

“No doubt.” Turning around, Violet looked at me. “But we’ll have Sebastian with us, half a dozen covert Ferrum Viriae, and Marcus, of course.”

“Of course.” I needn’t apply any rouge, not with the persistent flush that colored my face whenever I thought of him. “He left here in high dudgeon.”

Violet arched an eyebrow at me the very moment someone rang the bell at the front door. “You picked a fight with him, I’m sure.”

“If we were sparring, he threw only one punch.” I hadn’t told her about Marcus funding Warwick’s research; perhaps I never would. Taking up my gloves, I did my best not to meet her eyes. “I can’t seem to spend more than three seconds in his company without arguing with him.”

“Or wishing you could kiss him?” There was a touch of sadness in the suggestion, reminding me that her last words to Nic before his kidnapping were angry ones. I started to say something, but she quickly added, “The young Legatus is quite dashing, especially in uniform.”

“Shut up, Vi.” I smoothed my gloves up over my elbows and buttoned them at the wrist. “The last thing I need right now is the distraction of an ill-fated love affair.”

“Pity,” Sebastian noted from the hallway, able to eavesdrop through the wide-open door. “And here I was working up the courage to ask for your hand in marriage.”

“Sebastian!” We pronounced his name with varying numbers of syllables, all of them indignant.

“Just how long have you been standing there?” Violet added.

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