Chapter 17

Chapter 17

“If you would stand still for a few more moments, my lady...”

She hated that he called her that. She was no one’s lady and this old man seriously needed to stop annoying her. Although, she couldn’t move either. What did he think she was going to do? Willingly poke herself with a hundred needles?

Luna couldn’t breathe because there were at least twenty needles poking around her chest like some kind of demented corset. And then there were the ones around her hips, supposed to give her a fuller figure, the man had claimed. The horrible points felt more like a punishment for not being curvy enough to satisfy.

He’d shoved ones longer than her fingers into the base of the dress. The dressmaker had made it very clear that every item he’d brought with him wasn’t cut yet, so they should all fit her figure perfectly.

This was the last one. The very last dress he’d brought and he could only take the hem up enough to roll it. Hopefully, the Earl’s aunt wouldn’t notice how shoddy the craftsmanship was.

But at least it was beautiful. The emerald velvet would hold on to her figure better than other fabrics. The heart-shaped neckline would hopefully hide how broad her shoulders were, and how large her arms were. At least he hadn’t added any other fabric anywhere else. Though she would have to be very careful moving her arms or she’d rip the sleeves right off the dress.

Blowing out a long breath, she ignored the burning in her arms from having them raised this long. “Aren’t there stands or something I could put my arms on?”

“A lady of your talents surely has no need to rest her arms after only a few moments of a fitting.”

Yes, she absolutely did. And just because she had bigger arms than most women didn’t mean she could keep them raised at her sides for hours. “If you really think about it, my arms weigh more than the other ladies you work on. So if you don’t mind getting that stand...”

“You’ll stay put the way you are. I’m almost done, anyway.” He took the last pin out of his mouth and pointed at her with it. “Now stop moving, or I’ll have to start all over again. Do you hear me?”

Why was this dressmaker the most terrifying man she’d ever met? He was tall and thin like a reed in a riverbed. His hair stuck straight up in little white tufts, while his horribly dark eyes melted his pupils into his irises. She’d never seen a man who looked like him before. Too pale. Too ghostly.

Maybe he was really a ghost. She’d have to ask Beatrix if there were any in this house when all was said and done.

“There, I’m done,” he muttered before straightening. “You are my most difficult client yet, my lady, but I do believe I will make you the belle of the ball.”

“I don’t want to be the belle of any ball,” she replied. “I just want to look like I pass.”

“You’ll pass. You’ll be wearing one of my dresses. Now get it off or I won’t be able to finish on time and then the Earl will have both our heads.”

Luna took the dress off in a haze of sudden fear. This meant all of this was really happening. All of it would continue until she was standing in this same room, wearing the same dress. And then, suddenly, she was.

As if the night hadn’t even fallen, another day passed in the blink of an eye. She stood in front of the same dress maker in the same dress. Except this time it fit her like a glove. Like it was made for her, and she supposed now it was.

“There. I’m a genius.” The dressmaker crossed his arms over his chest and nodded. “Would you look at that? You almost look as though you were born into this. A natural beauty.”

“Sure,” she replied, staring down at the emerald green dress with a frown. “I don’t know if I look good like this.”

“You look lovely, however, that hair will have to be fixed.”

What was wrong with her hair? She’d left it down for the whole ordeal, and that was something she usually got compliments on. If anything was pretty about her, it was the bright red curls that always fell in a lovely tangle around her face.

She touched a hand to the curls and frowned. “What do you mean, we have to do something with my hair? I like it like this.”

“Yes, but that’s not how the ladies of the court wear their hair. You should twist it up into a braid or something. Perhaps a low bun at the base of your head? Ask a maid.” He propped his hands on his hips and gave her another once over. “I’ll have to tell my friends about this. I’ve made you look like some kind of warrior princess.”

Another voice interrupted them, the deep tones a clear sign that Luther was impatient. “I’m afraid there won’t be time for anyone to do her hair. I thought you were going to do that.”

The dressmaker turned on his heel, face bleeding into a startling bone white. “My lord! I’m a dressmaker, not a maid. I don’t know the first thing about women’s hair.”

“I asked you to make sure she was ready.”

“And I did.” The man gestured at her from her feet to her head. “She’s perfect.”

Luther looked her over, and she swore something heated in his eyes. His brows drew down and for a moment, something else looked at her. Something hungry that wanted to devour her, but she wasn’t sure whether it wanted to eat her flesh or something else entirely.

Goosebumps danced down her arms and not for the first time since arriving here, she realized how handsome he was. Luther might be a strange man with a murder basement, but he also had lovely sapphire eyes. A strong jaw. And his broad shoulders suggested he might actually be able to pick her up like the men in all those fairytales she used to love as a child.

Oh dear.

This would end badly, wouldn’t it?

She looked at him like a man now. A real, flesh and blood man who was ridiculously attractive and, for some reason, wanted her to pretend to be his fiancé. Luna knew better than to get feelings over this complicated situation. She had her life, and it was a decent one.

Sure, she lived over an attic and yes, sometimes the city watch was looking for her. Most of the time she had to keep her face hidden because of all the wanted posters, but that didn’t mean she had to fall under the spell of this alluring earl. Her sisters and Martin were ready to make a life with her, too. And that was a good life waiting for her to steal from this man.

Oh shit. She still had to steal that jewelry from him and somehow, that had gotten tossed to the side. She’d forgotten all about the plan to take those diamonds and whatever else she could.

Tonight, that would change. Luna had to get herself back together and step into the role of thief again. Otherwise, she didn’t know what she would do. Or how she’d change in this strange place with its wolf lord.

She shook out her shoulders and gave the Earl a little spin. “Well? Do you think your aunt will mind that I look like this?”

Those heated eyes looked her up and down, and she felt as though he actually touched her. “No one will be able to keep their eyes off you looking like that.”

Damn him for making her feel pretty. Luna rarely felt like this and this moment would be one she remembered forever. It was like a romance book that Beatrix loved to read so much. And she hated every second while her soul screamed that she was in love.

“I think people will stare for another reason, but sure. If you want to think it’s because of the dress.” Her bravado faltered as she touched her hair. “Do you think they’ll mind if my hair looks like this?”

“They will,” he replied, holding out his arm for her to take. “But if you put it up, I’m afraid I’ll be sorely disappointed.”

Well, that made her feel a little better, at least. Luna placed her hand on his arm and allowed him to whisk her away from the dressmaker and the memory of all those pins. They strode through the halls as though they’d done this a hundred times in their life.

She made him pause before the door to the dining hall, and quietly asked, “I don’t know what to call your aunt.”

He blinked at her. “You should call her Countess Fernsby. It’s my last name as well, though I’m realizing I probably never told you that.”

“You didn’t.” She took a deep breath and then asked another question. “Your aunt was married to an Earl?”

“They only had one son. Both my uncle and the boy died in an accident, so the title went to my father. Then to me.” He smiled down at her, the expression softening his usually hard gaze. Even the corners of his eyes crinkled. “Hence why she sends me a large sum. She’s an impressive woman, but I’ll let you make your own opinions on that.”

And then he pushed open the door.

He really should have asked if she was ready. Because she wasn’t.

The entire room glowed with candles and electric lights hanging from the ceiling. Crystal decanters filled with wine were passed around like they didn’t worry about affording the drink. And every single person in the room was beautiful.

She wished that thought was an exaggeration, but it wasn’t. Every single person looked like they were kissed by the gods. Gifted with an overwhelming amount of beauty and wealth and power.

Luna did not belong in this room.

Luther tightened his hand over hers, practically dragging her into the hall where they both towered over everyone. She looked down at the tops of the other women’s heads, for heaven’s sake. She couldn’t stand here and think she wasn’t an amazon in the middle of a dinner party.

“Luther!” an elderly woman called out from the back of the room where the servants had set up plush chairs beside the fireplace. “Come in, darling. You’re late!”

“Ready?” he asked out of the side of his mouth.

“Absolutely not.” Not that she had any chance to back out now.

How did he walk through the crowd so easily? Luther kept a pleasant smile on his face and a bright air to him that Luna couldn’t understand. He was as different as she was. And yet, somehow, he held himself with all the pride and strength of an earl.

He approached the white haired woman who didn’t stand. Luna noticed that immediately. His aunt was all too comfortable sitting there while he bent on a knee and kissed her hand. “Aunt. It’s always such a pleasure to see you.”

“Oh, you flirt. You say that every time I darken your doorstep and somehow I still believe you mean it.” She pulled her hand away from his lips and turned her attention to Luna. “Rumor has it you’re engaged. The people in Dead Man’s Crossing are claiming you’re already married, but I know you wouldn’t do that without my approval.”

“I wouldn’t dare.” He stood quickly, then smiled at Luna. “This is my fiancé, aunt. Luna—“

And then she realized their error. He seemed to notice it at the same time too, his eyes widening as he realized he had no idea what her last name was.

Jumping into the fray, she interrupted him with a quick, “Luna Winchester, Countess Fernsby. It’s an honor. I’ve heard so much about you.”

The old woman’s nose tilted up and her eyes narrowed even further. “Well, aren’t you a presumptuous little thing?”

Oh no, had she done something wrong? Luther was already trying to introduce her, so she assumed it would be all right if she just... plunged in? Perhaps that was the problem. The nuns used to claim that women should always know they were not to talk unless they were properly introduced and then spoken to. Luna simply never lived that life.

Opening her mouth, she shut it again before squeezing her eyes shut. Luther had claimed he wanted her to be herself. That’s what he’d said, and she had to run with that.

This wasn’t her life. She wouldn’t mess up her own happiness if she did anything wrong.

Blinking again, she plastered a smile on her face and shrugged. “I’ve always been called that, Countess. I don’t think anyone would ever believe you if you claimed I was polite or meek.”

White eyebrows rose into her curly, dandelion puffed hair. But then the Countess did something remarkable.

She smiled back.

“Good, I always hated young women who pretend we’re all kittens when we’re really lionesses.” She held out her hand for Luna to take, and good lord, what did the old woman expect her to do with that?

Luna glanced over at Luther, but he was no help. All he did was stare at her with wide eyes and then flick his gaze back to his aunt’s hand. As if that would give her any hint of what she was supposed to do in this situation.

She rolled her eyes briefly to the ceiling before taking Countess Fernsby’s hand in her own and dropping a kiss to the old woman’s knuckles. “From one lioness to another, it is good to see a sense of the wild in another woman.”

Gasps echoed around her. A few other women fanned themselves as though she’d committed a horrible sin. But the Countess threw her head back and laughed with delight. “My goodness, Luther! You’ve found an absolute delight!”

Thank god she’d been entertaining at the very least. Luna still had a feeling she’d done something wrong. At the very least, she’d taken any of the attention off Luther. Considering the calculating expressions on some of the men’s faces when they walked in here, she guessed that the women weren’t the only lions in the room.

He ran a very successful, but very basic, town. These men likely wanted to know how, and they’d come at the very worst time. Death had always haunted the Crossing, but never so close.

At least no one would look at him and wonder why everything was going so smoothly when his entire town was in turmoil. Instead, they were looking at her and wondering why the Earl would waste his time with a woman who looked like she might split her dress open down the back at any moment.

The Countess still smiled at her, then waved a hand. “Go introduce your new bride to your friends, my dear. Let them know I find her delightful.”

Well, that sounded promising. Luna hadn’t expected that to go quite so well, although she assumed the old woman would have more tests and trials, eventually. For now, however, she seemed to have dismissed them.

Luther put his hand on her lower back and maneuvered her away from his aunt. Only once they had put a healthy distance between them did he sigh. “That went better than expected. Are you ready to meet more?”

“No.” She straightened her shoulders, though. “But I guess if they want a show, then I’ll give them one.”