Page 59 of The Bartered Soul

“Are you all right?” Siobhan asks, pausing in her work to study my face. “I know some people are leery of what I see.”

“Yes, I’m fine. I just… well, I hoped that I could live out a quiet life here. That this was the end of my journeying. Helping in your shop, living in a room of my own, that’s all I want now. I have no power. No grand plans, or intention of causing a war,” I explain.

“Sometimes the universe doesn’t care about our plans, Andromeda,” she mutters gently before returning to her weeding.

The conversation turns to lighter topics after her confession. We pull wayward weeds in companionable silence for a while, Siobhan inserting commentary on plants and their uses as we move along the rows. The vegetables she grows for herself and her neighbors, in addition to many of the herbs for her remedies. On our walk back to town, she points out a path that leads to the jungle beyond where she forages for other useful plants and tropical fruit.

“Will you be staying, then?” Siobhan asks as we unpack the full baskets from the garden in her small kitchen workspace.

“I should get back,” I answer. “I’ll have tea at the boarding house before I have to ready myself for Marie’s tonight.”

“No. I mean on the island. I’m happy to have you share my home, but I wasn’t sure if you would be staying?”

“I don’t see many other options. I can’t just sail off on my own. If I’m to make a life for myself, this seems like the place to do so. I have at least two people I can call friends here and an opportunity that doesn’t require me to lay on my back for a living.” I clench my jaw as I trail off. This is what I came here to discuss, why am I distressed at the change in topic?

“Of course.” Siobhan gives me a knowing look. My guard has fallen by the wayside and my inner turmoil is evident. “We can confirm everything tomorrow after the men set sail. I can help you get everything over here from your room. Lyra can help and it will keep us both occupied.”

I bid farewell to Siobhan as she begins hanging herbs and bundling food for her neighbors, stepping out onto the bustling sidewalk. The streets are crowded with foot traffic and a few small wagons of people purchasing supplies and food from the marketplace, but they are all empty faces as I walk back to the boarding house engulfed in my thoughts, finally facing the reality that this is my final night with Lennox.

Chapter 35

The servants filled the tub in my bathing chamber with water that’s so hot my flesh turns pink as soon as I step in it. It’s been a long time since I attended anything as grand as I am anticipating this evening to be, so I add oils and herbs to perfume my skin, and soap my body and hair in preparation for the night.

The ripple of excitement coursing through me at the opportunity to celebrate Hallow’s Eve publicly again can’t be stifled by the fact that this is my last night with Lennox. Perhaps I can let myself imagine, just for one night, that I am a noblewoman again, and that we have some sort of normal future to enjoy together. Any feeling akin to hope has been smothered for so long that it makes me slightly anxious to even pretend. Nevertheless, I scrub until my skin is tender — due in equal parts to the harsh texture of the sponge and the scalding water. My breath catches as I sluice cool clean water over me to rinse any remaining soap from my body, gooseflesh pebbling across me.

The soft linen towel waiting for me soothes the sting from the sponge and I dry quickly, wrapping my long hair in the fabric to squeeze any lingering liquid from the strands. The gown Lennox sent me stills hangs on the front of the armoire. I stand bare in the briny breeze admiring it, touching the embroidery delicately in admiration of the seamstress’ skill — this must have taken weeks to create. I have no idea how he had it made in such a short time.

My hands still in their exploration — when had he had this made? I wonder. Siobhan’s tale earlier made it seem like he has been searching for me for years, and I find myself sifting through my memories for the first time I saw him sweep through the doors of the House of Starlight.

It must have been a few years ago that he first entered the salon, when a prickle of knowing had crept up my spine at the sight of him. At that time, rumors of his cruel exploits preceded him, so I made sure to stay far away from the man, afraid of anyone known to trade in flesh on the sea. Now, I understand that he was visiting his sister, checking on his niece, and maybe, just maybe, checking in on me, too.

I let the thought simmer in my mind, but can’t understand why he wouldn’t have approached me immediately if he knew me then. There are still so many unanswered questions about him, and we only have tonight, at least until he returns to Delosia again.

Sitting at my vanity, I sip a cup of tea while my hair dries, adding a small ring of kohl around my eyes and lightly staining my lips. The lace mask will hide most of my face for the night, so heavy cosmetics aren’t needed — a relief after wearing them so often in the House of Starlight. I pin my clean tresses into a braided chignon to better show off my neck and the deep-vee at the front and back of the gown, then add my ceremonial body chain which will show in the front vee. Carefully, I slip into my finery, savoring the glide of the silk on my skin, and the glint of the embroidery in the golden light that seeps through my open shutters.

I look like royalty with my full skirts of sheer fabric. The silver embroidery makes me think of shooting stars as the fabric rustles with my movements. All I am missing is a crown, but I am not presumptuous enough to wear my golden ceremonial circlet. The bodice is snug enough to keep my breasts held in place despite its low neckline, but I will need to be mindful of my movements just to be certain. It’s elegant, but risqué enough for me to feel like a dark goddess — not a princess. Dangerous and free, like the she-wolf Lennox always names me.

As I tie the black lace mask over my eyes to complete my ensemble, there is a tap at my door.

“Yes?” I call out, looking in the long mirror on the front of the armoire to admire a full view of myself.

“Are you ready?” the Captain’s deep voice rumbles through the wooden door. My heart rate increases and a flush of color blooms on my chest at the sound of him.

I open the door a moment later, “Yes, I am.”

His eyes travel from my face, gliding down the length of my body. Slowly, he returns them to meet my eyes, and suddenly, it’s he who is the feral one. A devastating grin turns up the corners of his mouth, and heat pools in my belly at that look, making me want to forget about the party and let that wicked mouth do whatever it wills for our last night together. Instead, I simply raise a brow and return his smile.

Tonight, he is finely attired in a black coat trimmed in silver embroidery so similar to that on my dress that there is no mistaking we are a matched set. A masculine version of the mask I wear is secured to his face, causing the memory of the rites to flash in my mind at the sight. I can’t believe I hadn’t recognized him immediately. There is no mistaking his identity now, and the memory of those gentle caresses in the moonlight only fuels my need for him.

“Andromeda, you look… delicious,” he whispers to me as I step from my room and lock the door.

“Thank you, Captain. Perhaps you can have me for dessert,” I respond, brushing against him lightly as I head to the stairs.

He chuckles darkly behind me as he follows me down the stairs into the courtyard. At the base of the stairs, Lyra waits in a gold gown and mask, dark curls in a halo around her pretty face. Lennox takes one of us on each arm to escort us to Marie’s.

* * *

Other guests wait to file in the open door at Marie’s when we arrive, so we stand in line to walk up the stairs to the verandah in silence. While everyone is beautifully attired in their finery, the masks chill me, despite the heat of the night. Hallow’s Eve is a night of magic and mystery, when the veil to the afterlife is thin. After all the memories of my aunt resurfacing, the thought of being closer to the dead makes me shudder; I do not want to find any more surprises awaiting me in this house.

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