Chapter Seven
Cynara
I seemed to go from sleep to wakefulness in an instant. Though the shadows were thick, it only took a moment for me to realize where I was. The wooden walls and comfortable bedding told me I was back aboard the Invincible. As I struggled to push the covers aside, a hand shoved me back against the pillows. I tried to push it away, but I was too weak.
“It’s all right, my darling. You’re safe. I have you back.”
Henri was leaning over me. He brushed my hair away from my forehead, as if I were a sick child instead of the woman I knew he despised.
Henri?
I heard a hiss of gas, and the lights in the cabin dazzled me when I blinked. As soon as I could open my eyes I looked up into Henri’s dark, dark irises. And was that relief I could see in there? Surely, I must be wrong.
I was confused by my nightmares. And as I stared at Henri’s veiled expression, the memories that had spawned my horrible dreams came flooding back.
The bandits. The blood-soaked man. The gunshot.
Simon.
I jerked my hand away with a cry and shoved him aside. Weak though I was, I almost made it to the door before he caught me. I whirled to face him, scarcely recognizing my own voice. “Let me go, Henri, I beg! I must see him. Did I help him enough? Is he well, is he free? Is he…alive?”
Henri grew angry, I could see, but I did not care. I needed to know.
“Get back on the bed, Cynara,” he ordered. “You had quite the excursion over the past two days.”
I ignored his harsh tone but ceased my struggle. Henri led me back to the bed. I sat down, itching with impatience though I looked at him in silence.
“Monsieur Thorne…” he had to force the words between his clenched teeth, “is perfectly fine, though still somewhat weak. Though it concerns me he has been just as insistent—or perhaps adamant is more the word—on seeing you as you are him this morning.”
Of course Simon was. I had healed him. I had seen the wound close beneath my hands. I shook my head to chase away the final threads of the vivid dream where Simon had not been healed. One where he’d died in my arms instead.
Henri knelt down before me, forcing my head around to face him. I resisted the urge to pull away as he brushed my disheveled hair back from my eyes. “Cynara, have you gone completely mad? Your little escapade almost cost us this assignment. Imagine what I would have faced if we had to return to Eli with his damned box instead of delivering it to the wilderness as he so madly insists! To teach you a lesson, I should beat you within an inch of your life.” He shook me, but gently. “Of course, it would do no good, no good at all.”
I freed myself from his grasp and stood, but Henri didn’t notice how his words enraged me, bringing up a fierce anger that burned within me. He was too wrapped up in his own rant.
I cut him off with a wave of my hand. “All my fault, was it? As if I could control an earthquake or stop the bandits before they kidnapped us. Your faith in my abilities surprises me, Henri.”
“I know what you are capable of far more than you yourself. But this assignment for WFG is vastly important for me. Yet you run off! You defied my direct orders.”
I could feel my anger flashing in my eyes as I tried to sputter a response to him. In my delay, Henri grabbed me in an unexpected and unwanted embrace.
He whispered against my ear, his voice soft and yet so full of the malice I’d come to associate with him. “And if you believe that you can escape from me, hide behind that bastard you’ve attached yourself to, then you do not know me at all.”
I shoved him with such strength that I fell back, but I moved quickly enough to close the gap between us so that I could meet his dark expression with one of my own. “I do know you. I know you care more for my wealth than me. I know you are convinced of some ridiculous claim that I am yours, that you can command me as you wish. But let me tell you this one thing, Henri d’Estes. I will speak with, I will see, anyone I wish. Without your damned threats hanging over my head.”
The fight darkened his features; he was attempting to hold back his temper. Instead of the anger I expected, a cold smile etched itself across his handsome features.
“Stay here and rest, my dear girl. When you have come to your senses, then perhaps you will have earned my permission to join the rest of us.”
He turned on his heel, storming out of the room. The tension left me as soon as he did. But when I heard the lock on the door click into place, I realized what he had meant. Henri was locking me in. Keeping me where he wanted me.
I rushed across the room, grabbing the handle and shaking it. Nothing happened. I banged my fist against the wood once in my frustration before sliding down against it. I had done so well at keeping my hurt regarding Henri’s treatment toward me at bay, but this was too much.
The longer I stayed there, the more the memories of that last night in captivity played again and again in my mind. How the bandits had hurt one another just to see if I could truly heal them. As if my powers were a sport for them. How my anger had taken over, and I became determined to do anything to set us free.
I had never been happier than when Lady Abigail opened the door to that horrible room, though the man had been quick enough to grab me to protect himself. Then Simon entered, and I saw that he was well. Relief like nothing I’d ever experienced broke through my fear, but it was erased at once when a shot rang out—Simon jumped before Lady Abigail, and he fell. I wanted to scream, even willed one to come forth, but no sound escaped me as Rupert’s knife found its mark over my own shoulder. The man crumbled, and I rushed over to where Simon had collapsed. Lady Abigail had gathered him to her, moaning and cursing.
“Captain Moran, s’il vous plait. Allow me…” I finally said.
She glared at me but fell silent as I explained to her what I could do. I tried to press upon her that there wasn’t much time. After what seemed to be an eternity, Lady Abigail released Simon just enough for me to reach the wound. I pushed open his shirt and jacket, placing my palms against his chest. Though I was still bound, my power had begun to flow through me. Simon’s body shuddered, and soon—I could only pray it was soon enough—the wound began to close. I will admit, the room darkened around me until at last, Simon was whole once more.
I groaned once before falling back against Rupert. He freed my hands from their chains and settled me into a rickety chair. Simon awoke only a few minutes later. He was sore and confused, but my dearest friend was alive. That was all that mattered.
It had all been too much. Too soon for my heart to accept all that had happened. I buried my head against the thin cloth of my gown and allowed my emotions to overwhelm me.
***
I was never one who could be set to tears for long, so it was soon enough that I became resolved in finding a way out of the prison Henri had created. In my attempts I destroyed an entire box of my most expensive hairpins trying to open that damned door. But then, I’d never been one for locks. My life as a thief had been limited to charming passing patrons on the streets of Paris. Or picking their pockets if there was nothing more I could do to separate them from their money.
When I was spent, and the wooden floor was covered with the little bent pieces of brass, I relented to dressing myself to focus my mind on anything other than the walls that seemed to grow closer with every passing hour. I was sitting at my makeshift dressing table, praying to my own reflection in the dancing glow of the gaslight, when I heard the lock click once and the door swing open.
“Cynara.”
I whirled around toward the voice and uttered a small cry of happiness before rushing across the room. Simon shut the door, crossing the floor to me, as I launched myself into his embrace. We held each other, whispering breathless phrases of nothingness before he spun me around once and set me back before him. He was speaking, but I didn’t hear him. I was too focused on searching him for any sign of injury, pressing my fingers against the bones in his arms, his chest, to ensure that he was intact. I gave a slight laugh at my own success before I realized he’d stopped trying to speak and was watching me with a mixture of amusement and concern.
“Thank the gods…you are well,” I said.
“I am.” Simon grabbed my hand and led me to the bed. After I sat down, he beside me, he began to look me over. “But what of you? Are you truly all right, Cynara?”
I wanted to tell him everything. Relinquish the burdens that made my heart so heavy. But as I searched his topaz eyes, that selfish desire left me. Instead I shook my head. “I am fine, mon ami. Only, when I woke up this morning, my door was locked.”
Simon nodded, his bright features overcome with a shadow that I couldn’t understand. “That would be your Henri’s doing. He was quite adamant about not allowing anyone in to see you. He claimed you wished to be alone.”
“Alone.” I breathed out the word, and shook my head. “Non. I am quite pleased to see you, my dear Simon. I fear this is my punishment from Henri for sneaking off the other night.”
“Punishment?” Simon clasped both of my hands into his, wrapping his thin fingers around them as if to hold them into place. “But you are no longer a prisoner of the Witchfinders. He must know—”
“Oui, I am.” I looked down at our hands, trying to find the right words to say. “I will always be until I’ve completed my side of the bargain. Then and only then will Henri release me. You must realize this too, I think. Or else you wouldn’t be here.”
Though only a moment had passed, it seemed as if it were an eternity before he spoke again.
“I’m here to thank you. To make sure you are all right. You saved my life when you healed me, Cynara. Simple as that. I can’t thank you enough for what you did, nor can I tell you…” I could feel Simon’s eyes searching me just before he released my hands and took my face between his palms. “I don’t know what possessed me when I saw you being held by that bandit, nor can I explain my fear when I saw them pull you away from me. Indeed, I don’t understand my own feelings for—”
I reached up, pressing my hand against his mouth to stop his words before they could be released. Or perhaps, before he could regret them. “Simon, stop. I am fine. I swear it. But the words you are about to utter…by all the gods, do not. I too am confused. Yet I do not wish to come between you and your Abigail. She is the woman you truly love, not I. And I fear what you feel now will turn to hate if I come between the two of you. I consider you a dear friend, and I do not dare take the slightest chance of losing you.”
Simon nodded, and I dropped my hand. I was grateful when he changed the subject with his next words. “I still do not believe you were able to heal me, despite what Abigail said. It is too much like fiction, this. I’ve seen the damage a gunshot can cause, yet I find no evidence of an injury on my person.”
“Would you prefer I showed you, mon ami?”
“However would you do that?”
Simon appeared surprised when I removed my jacket and began to undo the clasps around my wrists to push the sleeve of my shirt upward. I couldn’t help but giggle as he began to sputter. “Pray tell, but what are you doing?”
“Proving a point without ruining my attire.” I chuckled as his blush returned. I stood and took hold of my sharpest brooch pin, raking it across my arm until the flesh was dotted with blood from the cut.
I finished and bent down in front of him. Simon was still that charming shade of red, looking away from me until I giggled once more. “Oh, you are such a goose! I swear to all that is holy, I am not indecent. Now look.”
“And you, dear girl, are nothing short of a minx.”
When Simon finally turned toward me, I saw that he was teasing me. I held out my arm, and he took it. Within moments the blood stopped, and the rich pink surrounding the thin line disappeared. Soon after, the cut itself closed and faded.
“Incredible…” Simon muttered, no longer hesitant as his long fingers grazed the smooth skin now unmarred by any discoloration.
I fear my smirk disappeared the instant he touched me, and a short gasp escaped. At that moment I could focus on nothing. I was frozen into place by the feel of his touch against my skin, staying completely still as he examined me. The spell he had cast continued as he turned my arm over.
Simon studied the area of my cut in silence. But I studied him as well, taking in how his breathing had quickened. He was so close. Too close. All too soon the passion that had overwhelmed me in San Remo returned, and I felt the flush from it overtake me.
It appeared that same spell had taken hold of him as well. Instead of increasing the distance between us, which I had expected when he was satisfied, Simon reached out to grasp the side of my throat with his palm. He moved as if I would pull away, slowly and carefully just before his lips pressed gently against my own. I couldn’t stop myself and responded in kind, leaning into his embrace as the sweet spell took hold. It broke only when we parted.
Simon whispered against my lips. “Merci beaucoup, Minx. For showing me this. For everything.” He placed another featherlight kiss to my forehead before standing to leave the room. Though I fear our embrace left me weakened and breathless in the shadows, I found my voice just as Simon was about to pull open the door.
“Simon, may I ask you a single question?”
My companion stopped to face me, a small smile replacing his stoic expression.
“However did you unlock that door?”
Simon chuckled. “It’s no great mystery, my dear girl. I simply used the key.”
“The key? But Henri…”
He shrugged. “Your Henri isn’t the only one with access to these locks. Indeed, I’m surprised he has those keys in his possession.”
Henri’s threats concerning Simon filled me with a fear so sudden that it stabbed sharp against my heart. I shook my head in response, ignoring the curious look he gave me. “S’il vous plait, Simon. When you leave, secure the door once more.”
“I will do no such thing! Why, I’d—”
“Please.” My voice was soft, but there was a tone in it that couldn’t be ignored. At least, I hoped that he would hear it. “Do not let Henri learn that you’ve been here with me.”
“Cynara, forgive me, but you’re being ridiculous. If d’Estes has—”
I took hold of his hand then, squeezing it once. “Please.”
Simon’s eyes searched my face for a moment, and whatever he saw there must have convinced him where my words could not. He sighed then nodded. “Very well.”
When I heard the click of the lock, the fear that gripped me disappeared. It wasn’t much, but if I could keep Henri convinced that his threats had been successful, perhaps I could protect Simon. After all, Henri knew I didn’t fear him for my own sake. Perhaps that is why he threatened Simon instead.
I sat back before my mirror to brush my lips with my hand as I remembered the kiss Simon and I had just shared. Though I knew that his heart would never be mine, Simon’s affection and kindness meant much to me. Protecting him from Henri was the very least I could do in return.
As I took in my reflection, my mind began to race, and I smiled. My weapon, the only one I had at that moment, was Henri himself. And I would use his pride for my own advantage.
Henri would release me in the morning. I was sure of it.
***
I was sitting on the bed when Henri appeared at my door later the next morning. It was well after dawn, long after the noises of the airship filled my small compartment. Henri shut the door behind him, watching me in a silence I knew he didn’t expect me to break. My assessment proved correct when he tucked the keys back into his pocket and broke that silence himself.
“Bonjour, Cynara. Tell me. How are you this morning?”
I kept my head down to stare at my hands, the very picture of obedience until he moved to stand before me. I shook my head and bit the side of my cheek until tears sprang up in the corner of my eyes then buried my face in my hands.
Henri knelt down before me, prying my hands away, and I threw my arms around his neck.
“Oh, Henri! I’m so sorry! I have acted just dreadfully since…” The words became stuck in the back of my throat, but I forced them out nonetheless. “Since Jean-Pierre’s death. I don’t know what came over me. You are all I have left. The only one I have left, and I should have listened.”
Henri pulled me away, a victorious smile sitting smug on his face as he forced me to look at him. “I see you have recovered indeed. Does this mean you’ve decided not to kill me after all?”
I nodded, taking his handkerchief to wipe my eyes. “I am truly sorry for being such a burden to you. I am nothing more than a woman. Weak and stupid with her own emotions. I know I cannot ask for your forgiveness, but I do beg your mercy.”
“And the money? You will tell me where it is hidden?”
My facade almost shattered against the desire to scratch out his eyes for his selfishness. I covered my face with the handkerchief and nodded to hide my rage before whispering. “Oui. But I cannot tell you until we get back to Paris. I had the lawyers hide it, even from me, so that I would not be able to answer any questions regarding the funds if I were tortured by…by the Witchfinders.”
I couldn’t help but notice the reluctance Henri displayed as he wrapped me up into his embrace. But I was sure he was unaware that the shudders running through me were from anger instead of remorse.
He kissed me then, rough and possessive. I hated myself for the desire that arose from his embrace, so different than what I felt when I was with Simon. Henri brought out a darkness in me. A primal instinct that caused my heart to race madly.
He pushed me back farther onto the small bed as he ran his fingers through my curls, tugging on them and deepening our kiss. I felt the weight of my hair falling around my shoulders as I clung to Henri with a hunger I should have been ashamed of. But I wasn’t. This was what I had wanted, wasn’t it? His attention. His desire.
Now, as I lay beneath him and returned his affection, I was surprised at my thoughts. They weren’t images of love or passion. Instead, I hated myself for the arousal that came from his embrace, which was so different than what I felt when I was with Simon.
Henri seemed to be just as affected as I was. His face was flushed with the heat of our encounter, his hair disarranged and his jacket rumpled. Indeed, I could feel his desire for me coming off his body in waves. So I was surprised when he shoved himself upright and planted a final kiss on my swollen mouth.
“Straighten up, my darling. Your new friends are clamoring to see you.”
I sprang from the bed, all but knocking Henri aside as I rushed to undo the damage our little encounter had caused to my hair and my dress. I smoothed out the wrinkles covering my shirtwaist and pulled my curls upward into a chignon. When I was finished, I couldn’t help but notice that Henri had taken the time to smooth out his own clothing as well.
“Very well then.” Henri offered me his arm. “You are quite delightful now that you’ve come back to your senses. Absolutely delightful.”
I felt like one of Jane Austen’s ninnies, but I managed to keep my eyes downward when he led me from the room. Henri was nothing more than a bully. A vain one. Easily played once he believed himself to be the victor.
I glanced away from him as we entered the main compartment, winking once to Simon who was reading by the windows.
“Look who is feeling better today!” Henri proclaimed. “Our lovely witch has finally decided to join the rest of us.”
“Indeed.” Simon’s tone was dry as he sat his book aside and approached us. Their darling servant, Rupert, did as well, rushing forward to demand I eat something. Henri sat me down at the small table and left. He seemed insistent on telling Lady Abigail of my reemergence himself. No doubt, his eagerness came from his attempts to impress the captain.
Simon leaned over from his place behind me, hissing in my ear as he watched Henri disappear. “Pray tell, dear minx, but what are you doing?”
I didn’t turn toward him, but I’m sure he caught sight of my smile. “Placating my enemy, Goose, and gaining my freedom.”
“You don’t need to do this. Whatever it is you are doing.”
“I promise, mon ami, I will explain everything. But please, for now, play along,” I whispered, squeezing the hand he’d placed on my shoulder. “Come to my cabin again tonight, and if you would be so kind, bring a tool of some sort.”
“A what? Whatever for?”
I watched as Henri returned to us, the Lady Abigail in tow. I lowered my voice once more, turning my gaze away from Simon and back to studying the wood grain of the table. “Something to destroy that damned lock with. Forgive me, but come Hell or its demons, I will not be imprisoned in that room again.”
Though Simon took my hint and turned to study the passing clouds with a bored grace that only an Englishman could master, I heard him chuckle under his breath. “Minx, indeed.”
***
The lock on the door was stubborn. A shiny brass contraption that fought against the abuses I was intent on inflicting against it with the sharp stick of metal Simon had brought for me. I growled once at its insistence on staying together while Simon watched on from his perch at my dressing table. I didn’t have to turn around to know that his curiosity was getting the better of him. I was quick to learn that Simon’s impatience showed itself through his fidgeting hands. His ragged sighs.
Just when I was on the verge of throwing the wretched tool across the room, I felt him come behind me. I looked up to see him reach for the device in my hand and gladly relinquished it to him.
“If I do this for you, will you please sit down and tell me just exactly what it is that you are scheming?”
I nodded and stood, wiping my hands on my skirt. Though I’d been fighting with the lock for what seemed to be ages, it was only moments before I heard the wood door crack beneath the pressure Simon had applied. He turned and handed the tool back to me before gesturing at the chair for me to sit.
“Merci beaucoup, Simon.” I gave him my most charming smile as I sat and faced him. “I owe you an explanation, do I not?”
“You do.” My companion moved to take the seat across from me on the edge of my bed. “But I must confess, I don’t believe you will tell me everything.” He raised a single hand to stop my objections. “I say that not because I don’t trust you. Only because I feel there is more that you are not willing to share. Answer my questions instead.”
I sighed and met his golden eyes with my own. “As you wish, mon ami. Ask what you will.”
Simon had started to fidget again, but I waited. Trying to decide what I should tell him, or rather, what I could confess. There was so much about Henri I wasn’t willing to share with anyone, not even dear Simon. But the offences done against me were heavy. A burden that I wanted to relieve myself from. It would be difficult for me to maintain my silence.
“What, exactly, were you doing this morning?”
I shrugged. “As I said, placating the enemy. I knew that if Henri believed I was going to be a well-behaved prisoner from now on, then he would relinquish his need to hold me in this room. And provide me with a bit more freedom.”
“I unlocked the door last night. You could have left it that way. But I must admit that the fear you displayed was unsettling. Don’t believe that I’ve forgotten about the marks on your neck I saw at Bartleby, Cynara. Is that what you’re so afraid of? Has he committed more acts of violence against you? Threatened you?”
I looked away from Simon, filled with a sudden apprehension as my fingers began to trace the perfume bottle closest to my reach. I did not want to share this with him. But my silence was his acceptance.
Simon pushed off the bed and started to move across the room before I could react.
When I did, I placed a hand on his arm, and he froze. “Simon, Goose…stop. S’il vous plait.” I maneuvered myself between him and the door, unwilling for him to face Henri about my injuries.
His expression was blank, but his eyes glowed in the most unnerving way. Simon wouldn’t look at me as he responded, and I could hear the anger underlying his words. “Let me pass, Cynara.”
“Non.”
His protective nature played against my emotions; I felt an ache in my heart as they reminded me of the one I’d lost. I shook my head in an attempt to try to distill that dulled pain before I faced him.
“Simon, please. You don’t know everything, and you don’t know Henri as I do. If you rush over and try to defend me, then—”
“I know enough, Cynara.” I could see the muscles in his jaw clench as he responded. “He will be off of this ship by dawn.”
“Simon, for one more moment listen to me.” My words rushed out before I could stop them. “Oui. Henri and I share a past that is best forgotten. And, oui, he has both committed violence and uttered threats against me. But, my dear friend, think of what this would mean. Sir Eli’s box will not be delivered or, rather, he will not believe that it has been without Henri’s word. And your own beloved will be held to account for it. Think of what the results of any action against Henri would mean for your Lady Abigail.”
Simon relaxed at the sound of her name, and his shoulders fell in resignation. He wrapped his hands around my arms and held me for a moment before resting his forehead against my own. “Cynara, I can’t just let—”
“Oui. You can. Please. Don’t try to protect me from him. The costs are too great.”
Simon pulled back and though I could see that I had won, his expression was stern, the anger in his eyes still smoldering. “Very well. But if he commits any further violence…”
I shook my head. “Non. I don’t believe that he will. And this is truly the most unbearable subject that I refuse to speak of any longer. Let’s talk of something else. S’il vous plait?”
It appeared Simon wasn’t ready to change the subject. But he was willing to comply with my wishes as I pulled him back into the room. Back into the seat he had vacated in his anger. And for that I was grateful. Within moments the heavy tension that had filled my compartment before shifted into the comfortable aura that radiated off of Simon as I begged for him to tell me of Egypt. It was to be our next stop, and I was most curious about it. Though I was willing to talk of anything other than Henri, or the explanation that Simon had wanted so badly.
By the time he began his departure from me, Simon’s mood had returned to its usual cheerfulness. I was standing at my door, thanking him again for his assistance, when he reached out and brushed the side of my face.
“Promise to tell me, Minx. Don’t fight him alone.”
I nodded. He slipped away to his own compartment. For a moment I was sure the shadows farther down the hall moved, and my heart stopped as I shut the door. I stood against it for a little while longer, afraid that Henri had seen us.
When I finally pushed myself away and prepared for bed, I whispered a prayer into my mirror: “Protect us, Gods of Old, for we know not what dangers we face. Now, and in the future.”
The gas lamp flared once, and flickered before leaving me to my fears, and to the darkness.