“We shall see.” Theo tossed back a large gulp of brandy. “If nothing else, the pursuit should be invigorating. Hmm. There’s a store on Pannier Street. I should pay a visit. Hinchcliff and Co.”
Unfolding from the chair like some mechanical being, Dankyo rose, straightened his trousers. “I must resume my duties. Might I make one last candid observation, sir?”
Theo waved casually.
“Sir, ahem…caution is advisable.” He stared fixedly at a portion of the wall above Theo’s head. “I believe…the young woman has you by the testicles, sir.”
It took all Theo’s willpower not to choke on his last swallow of brandy. “Well then, I can only hope and pray.”
*
Servants brought several new dresses for Claire to select from, and the next morning the handcuffs were supplemented with a long chain running to the bed’s column. Finally she could move about on the bed. The ache in her shoulder muscles went away.
Were these rewards Theo’s idea? The long steel chain ran cold across her hand like a silver serpent. Did they not wonder how dangerous such a thing might be? She could have strangled June if she’d wanted to—not that she would. With small gestures and kindnesses, the woman had become more than a mere jailer.
Inkline would have told her she was weak, and that this, the Hellene Nation, was the enemy of the PME and so therefore all its people were her enemy. Inkline could go to hell, if he wasn’t already there. She’d make her own decision.
Besides, June didn’t have the key anymore and had to call in a guard to free her from the cuffs. She didn’t want to hurt June. Killing anyone no longer seemed right.
Soon after she woke that morning, Harry walked in with a box of books. Blearily, she watched as he lowered it to the floor. “The colonel is to be away a few days, and he thought you might like these. He told me to say enjoy. You do read?” Harry scratched his head.
She slid up onto one elbow, stared dumbfounded from Harry to the box. How had he known? June must have told him. The twinkle in the woman’s eyes as she shuffled about arranging ornaments said it all.
“I do read.” Her heart did a little skip of joy. They both seemed to be waiting for something. “Uh. Thank you?”
Everything was in there. A whole world of inventiveness. Books about cooking. Archaeology books on diggings where the layers revealed the crushed remains of strange four-wheeled vehicles, their owners entombed within. Books about pets. Stories about murders or monsters or choosing men to marry. Those last, she left in the box.
For hours, engrossed in reading, she forgot to sharpen her fork.
After a lunch of roast meat and salad, eaten with her fingers—oh, if only they knew it was too late—Claire sat cross-legged on the bed, facing June. She arranged the blue skirt of her dress over her knees. The sutures barely bothered her. Tomorrow, she’d be healed enough to escape to the Brito-Gallic League. To freedom.
She sighed. If only she didn’t have this niggling, horrible thought at the back of her head that somehow this was wrong. Yet what could be wrong with freedom?
A half-knitted garment lay on June’s lap. She peered over a pair of spectacles at Claire, though her hands continued clicking and clacking the knitting needles. “Yes?”
More potential weapons, Claire noted. The bone point of the needles would go into an ear or an eye with ease. Ah, these were stupid, stupid thoughts.
“Why?” A tendril of her hair tumbled before her eye. She pulled it out straight and turned it round her finger.
“Why what, dear?”
Dear. Again. She closed her eyes. How could they treat her like this? As if she was normal?
Though the cuffs on her wrists said otherwise.
“Why are you treating me so nicely?” She stared at her fingernails, then dared to look up at June.
June snorted. “‘Cause you’re only a young woman. Not some monster. Ah, don’t look at me all googly-eyed! If the colonel says you’re right by him, then you’re right by me too. ’Bout the only one in the house you gotta watch for is Mister Dankyo. But then he’s paid to be suspicious as all hell.” She raised her hedgelike eyebrows. “‘s that good enough for you?”
A lump had formed in her throat. Claire found a spot on the skirt to rub at. She blinked at June then nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
*
Pearly fingers of moonlight edged across the bedspread, slinking through the top clear panes of the doors as if to beckon her to the world outside. She lay awake, mulling over why she might stay and what else she might do.