Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four Page 5

  “Very good, Ma’am. She turned to leave but stopped again. “Oh, I left something for ye on yer bed. T’was delivered today.”

  Sapphira smiled. “That must be my birthday present. Thank you.”

  “Might I suggest you carry it tonight. Might bring ye good luck.”

  “Carry it? Is it not my birthday amulet?”

  “No, sorry Ma’am. Looks to be a jewel—a radiant one at that. Most impressive.”

  Sapphira nodded. “Thank you. I’ll see to the royal jeweler myself then.”

  EIGHT

  France, Present Day

  M y feet teetered on the edge while my hair whipped on the wind.

  “Say you’ll come with me, Sophia, and I’ll pull you back in.”

  “Nick! Stop it!” I cried. Was he really going to drop me into the waves below?

  He continued to dangle me out over the edge, even letting out a low chuckle.

  “I’m serious! Don’t drop me!” My heart was thudding wildly in my chest now. “This isn’t funny!”

  It was over in a flash and he pulled me in. I stared at him, frightened to find his eyes unresponsive and dark. “What the hell was that?”

  “What? I was just teasing,” he said, looking half concerned as I attempted to shove past him. He grabbed my wrist, forcing me back to the edge of the cliff. “Not so fast. Where did that come from?”

  “What?” I shifted my feet against the loose rocks trying to gain better footing. They really needed a fence up here.

  “Are you screwing around on me?” His voice sent a shiver down my spine.

  I glanced down and realized he was talking about Gigi’s ring, which I’d inadvertently placed on my left ring finger.

  “No.” I could hardly find the words before he let me go.

  I was free falling. Had I slipped out of his grasp or had he really just let me go?

  It was like a bad dream.

  I hit the water with a thud which drove a terrible stinging sensation into my nasal passage. I barely had time to register the cold before I drifted deeper into the water. I swam but it was futile without knowing which way was up. I tried to remember everything I’d ever heard about drowning but nothing came to me except my Gigi’s short but sweet advice.

  Don’t panic.

  In the distance, an electric-blue fish and an ugly, black eel swam for me. My lungs wanted to explode with fright. I turned the other way and headed for the abyss off in the distance. I’d barely blinked before I was over top of it—over some sort of deep dark cavern. How had I gotten over here so fast? I’m losing oxygen—not thinking straight. There were no fish around me anymore; instead there was a light radiating from within the cavern. It dawned on me that my lungs no longer hurt but my finger was once again tingling. Like when I’d put on Gigi’s jewels this morning. The sensation was spreading throughout my whole body as if the strange light was slowly drawing me in.

  ***

  There was a deep humming that nagged at my ears and a blackness that lingered. It had been there for ages. Heavy and honey thick, seductive yet painful, too. I only wished to keep still, in that blackness, until the throbbing in my temples went away but the sound of heavy footsteps grew closer. The door opened and a strong musk stung my nostrils. I burrowed deeper into my cocoon of darkness but the bed sunk under the strain of company. The movement was too much, and a wave of nausea rolled in.

  I swallowed it back down. “Nick,” I whispered. “What happened?”

  His hand stroked my hair before trailing slowly to my ribs, making me very aware of the thin fabric tangled at my waist. As I peeked one eye open, my vision blurred, and my eyes stung from the salty ocean.

  “Nick,” I repeated. “What happened?”

  His hand caressed my nipples, first one and then the other, which responded against my better judgment. What is he doing? My head throbbed. The room spun as I attempted to sit up.

  “The light,” I said.

  “Shhh,” he soothed, laying me back down. I was weak.

  “What happened?” I asked, pushing back at him.

  My sinuses burned, and my eyeballs felt like they’d burst out of my head.

  “Réveillez-vous.” Nick’s voice surprised me. He enjoyed speaking French when we vacationed but his accent was never this good. He slipped the blanket down to expose my thighs.

  I grabbed for it and pulled it back up to my waist, shivering. “Where are we?”

  “Stop playing,” he cooed in my ear. I closed my eyes, my mind searching, trying to make sense of his voice and touch.

  His voice grew deep and menacing as he stood up.

  “Get out of bed, Sapphira! You try my patience.”

  I looked up, but I could only make out a dark figure looming over me, pacing back and forth.

  “I can’t see. There’s something wrong with my sight.”

  When I didn’t respond further, he tweaked my nipple hard.

  “Owww!” I howled, opening my eyes in time to watch his blurry shadowed form disappear from the room.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed to chase after him, but nothing seemed familiar or right. This was not our villa. Where was I? How did I get here? I remembered wandering up the hill. Oh my God! He’d proposed!

  Wrapping a blanket tight to my chest to ward off the chill, I staggered out of bed and across the room. There were delicate, diamond panes of glass in the windows, floral patterns on the walls and dolls on a shelf. The nausea was overwhelming. I leaned my forehead against the cold marble of an oversized fireplace, trying to dredge up what had happened. We’d been gazing out over the cliff. His dad wanted us to move to Europe. But I’d said no. And he’d lost it!

  I gripped the mantle more tightly. What had happened next?

  Suddenly, I remembered the magnetic spinning cavern and dizziness overtook me. I opened my eyes to get away from the memory.

  Bracing myself, I stared down into the face of an ugly, Marie-Antoinette-looking doll lying in a basket. The eyes bulged.

  Had I really fallen?

  If so, this was a pretty strange hospital. I ran my hands over my face and head. No cuts, although I did feel bruised, nauseous and dizzy.

  As I contemplated that, a series of tiny knocks rapped at the door. I returned to the bedside just as a petite, dark-haired girl poked her head in.

  “Oh good, mademoiselle, you’re up.” She signaled behind her, and two women marched in to open the drapes, unfold a food tray and hand me a cup of hot broth.

  “She’s awake!” The dark-haired girl’s tiny, French voice cracked with excitement.

  Sipping my broth, I moved to the window as they began to make the bed and assemble garments.

  “Who are you?”

  “Chloe!” she said, looking affronted.

  I turned away from her and gazed out the French doors at the expanse of blue water. The villa must be built on a cliff.

  “The water… I was drowning. Did I wash up here?” I sputtered, reminding myself of an amnesia patient I’d once seen on Gigi’s silly soap opera.

  Chloe paused slightly and gave the other lady a strange look but she nodded her head yes.

  How could Nick have dropped me off that cliff? That bastard! He must have dived in and saved me because I was alive, or at least partially alive. I felt like death. I remembered it all so clearly now. I must have washed up on shore somewhere along the French Riviera? Or were there other islands, perhaps a private island? This could be some eccentric millionaire’s mansion, which explained the elaborate bedroom.

  “You don’t remember your fall?” Chloe asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  “Mind yourself, Chloe,” scolded the tall, thin maid with the pinched face. “Lisabetta, come and look at the nasty bruise on her head.” She motioned rapidly for an older woman to come over.

  “It’s nothing,” Lisabetta said. “The doctor has seen her. She’s fine. Thank God for that handsome Graf of Württemberg. Now get her dressed so the house can move on.”

 
No sooner had Lisabetta given the order than the tall skinny one threw my arms up and yanked the nightie over my head.

  “What the hell are you doing?” I said, quickly throwing my hands over my breasts.

  “Mademoiselle?” She questioned.

  “Give me that!” I screeched, grabbing for the nightgown as she stepped back out of my reach.

  “Who are you, and where the hell is Nick?”

  I was not a shy person, but I was not used to being stripped by strangers.

  She looked panicked, glancing from Lisabetta to me.

  “Leave her,” Lisabetta said, calmly.

  I wrapped the nightgown around me like a towel and marched over to the door that I’d seen Nick exit through. Where had he gone?

  Then it occurred to me to be afraid. What if Nick didn’t jump in after me? What if I washed up somewhere alone?

  My hands were cold, but sweaty, as I clutched the knob. For a moment, I forgot the chill running down my spine, and I regarded my hand as though it belonged to someone else. Where was my vibrant yellow nail polish? Had the sea scrubbed it clean? Blue veins were visible through delicate flesh. I noticed Gigi’s ring. The jewels sparkled. My ring and my hands, yet much paler.

  “Should I call for the doctor?”

  I looked back to see which one had said that, of course it was the tall, thin maid with the pinched face.

  “No,” Lisabetta clucked disapprovingly. “He’ll put her down again.”

  “Put me down?” What am I a stray animal?

  Lisabetta nodded, reaching a hand toward the nightgown I clutched around my body.

  “Why are you dressing me?”

  “Dinner,” Lisabetta said, motioning to Chloe. “Hand me the corset and bring the gold dress. Don’t forget the brooch this time.”

  “That’s what I’m supposed to wear to dinner? Is this some sort of costume party? I really don’t want to take part. Don’t you have a cocktail dress I could wear instead?” I said, eyeing the three-quarter length sleeves and scoop neckline. “Besides, I’m not going to dinner.” My stomach took that inopportune moment to lurch. “And where’s Nick? I’d like to give him a piece of my mind.”

  Lisabetta raised her eyebrow. “I would imagine he’s downstairs by now.”

  “Well, why didn’t you say so,” I announced, grabbing the clean white dress from her hands. “Why am I putting on another nightgown?”

  No one answered but the tall one smiled and held out stockings and garters.

  I eyed her suspiciously and then motioned for them to turn around before I moved to put things on. “Fine.”

  The ladies moved in once I was covered and began a process of adding layers to me.

  First came the torturous corset. One of them instantly went to my back, tugging and squeezing until my chest bulged out the top.

  “Ouch! What is that sticking me?”

  She continued on, nipping and tucking me in as she yanked the laces tighter. I let out an exasperated moan, and she smiled back at me.

  “Euhhhh, have no fear, Mademoiselle. We will get you into it, non?” She was soon squeezing me so tightly I thought I might pass out. Never mind the near drowning; this would be death by corset.

  “What is this made of? Steel?”

  “Non. I thought you preferred the whale bone.”

  I shook my head. Why the hell would I want to wear a whale’s bones? “I’m just saying I don’t think an authentic gown is really necessary. You know they do make knock offs nowadays? Someone should inform your employer.”

  She slipped a camisole over my head and finally I stood up straight, surrounded by a sea of bronzed gold.

  Both women stood back, surveying their handiwork with satisfaction.

  “One last thing,” The tall one said, pushing a powder puff into my face.

  “Sei bellissima!” Lisabetta smiled and pinched my cheek.

  I huffed. “Can we please go downstairs now? I must see Nick.”

  First, we’d get the hell out of this place and then I’d give him a piece of my mind. No man would drop me from a cliff and get away with it.

  NINE

  T he maid led me through a dozen multi-colored chambers with vaulted ceilings, past numerous tapestries and ornamental pillars, until at last we stood in an enormous grand hall that was breathtaking—full of sparkly chandeliers and elaborate cross ribs that arched high overhead that reminded me of the library’s reading room.

  The party was just getting started, mind you it was not just any old party. The guests arriving were dressed like me, wearing costumes befitting a nineteenth-century ball.

  I turned to Chloe. “So, how does this type of thing work? Do we watch the actors perform sort of like a dinner theater?”

  The maid’s brow furrowed. She was too busy surveying the room to answer me. Now that I looked closely at her, I realized she was a nervous little thing, like a kitten in the hands of a toddler.

  “Are you feeling okay, Chloe?”

  The girl looked startled by my question but managed a nod.

  “Are you looking for Nick? I’d really like to see him. I have a lot of questions.” I glanced about the room. Nick was nowhere in sight but there was a tall, handsome man standing on his own.

  He was partially hidden by a massive staircase. He must have felt someone watching him, because he suddenly looked up. Catching my eyes, he smiled before bowing his head.

  Ooh-la-la. Fancy.

  I glanced at Chloe. “Who is that man by the stairs?”

  “You don’t remember him? Graf Conrad Alexander Ferdinand of Württemberg.”

  “That’s quite the mouthful,” I joked. “All he needs is some pickled peppers.”

  “Why would he need those?” Chloe asked.

  I bit my lip. “Never mind.”

  Her gaze returned to the room, settling on a couple that had just wandered close to us. A clean-shaven young man with light brown hair and glasses who was speaking with a commanding, older woman in a cherry red gown. The dress was the most elaborate in the room, not counting mine—squared across the bust and trimmed with lace.

  Her black hair was parted in the center, pulled back from her face and topped by a crown. Despite being a few inches shorter than the man, it was easy to see this woman had an important role to play.

  Chloe seemed to shrink back at their appearance especially as a dowdy, thin-faced woman appeared to join them. A cap covered her dark hair. She was wearing a rose gown that seemed to swallow her whole, but her back was ramrod straight as she glared about the room, disapprovingly, reminding me of a watchdog. I didn’t blame her one bit—she’d probably been forced into this little soiree, as well.

  Chloe took one last look and fled back through the crowd from which we’d come.

  I glanced at the remainder of the room, curious as to what was so intimidating. The party looked civilized enough. If only I could find Nick, I might be able to relax and enjoy some champagne before getting the hell out. I mean we’d attended Halloween parties before even a ball once, but where were the Jack O’ Lanterns and barrels of apples for bobbing.

  I could feel more and more curious glances sliding my way. Forget the booze, I needed to find Nick and escape.

  “Princess Maria, I am afraid we must settle the problem of what to do with your daughter,” the man in the glasses said, rather loudly to the woman beside him.

  So, the woman in red was playing a Princess; that explained her commanding presence.

  Princess Maria glanced up at him with an annoyed look. Her face matching the red of her gown.

  “I rather think we’re already working on that, Henry.”

  He colored, slightly. “Of course.” He stole a look around the room. “She is just so difficult. Something must be decided.”

  The thin faced woman pursed her lips together as she seemed to finally take notice of me. She leaned over toward Princess Maria, and whispered something under her breath. Whatever she said caused the princess to stiffen and turn in my direction
.

  “There you are!” The princess motioned for me to come forward. When I didn’t move, she approached me. The man followed her, practically shadowing her movements.

  “Princess Sapphira,” he said. “How are you feeling?”

  I glanced behind. How many Princesses were in this play?

  A woman in green flew up to us, interrupting and curtsying.

  “Thank you so much for inviting me, your highness,” she chirped.

  “Don’t thank me. It was Henri’s suggestion,” Maria replied.

  “Ahh, Comte de Chalais,” she said, kissing Henri on both cheeks in an overdramatic fashion.

  “And look at this lovely, exotic creature. Is this your daughter?” the woman in green asked, turning in my direction.

  I waited for Princess Maria to correct her but, instead, she nodded and put her hand on my shoulder. “Yes, this is our fair Princess.”

  I pulled away.

  Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

  The Comte de Chalais and Princess Maria exchanged a look and the overly excitable woman in the green dress arched her right brow.

  I faked a smile, suddenly ashamed by my own rudeness.

  “I’m sorry, but I’d just like to find Nick and be on my way.”

  All eyes were on me now.

  “Sapphira,” Maria whispered. Her eye twitched at a rapid pace. I had a bad feeling about this woman.

  “Why are you saying my name like that? It’s Sophia.”

  She gritted her teeth and turned toward the dowdy woman.

  “Alastríona, call for the doctor. She’s worsened.”

  “No. Please. Just… if you’ll give me the phone… I’ll call my boyfriend and be out of your hair.”

  The woman scurried through the crowd, returning with a silver-haired gentleman whom I assumed was the doctor.

  “Please forgive her,” Maria said to the room. “We’ve allowed her out of bed too soon.”

  No one moved.

  I caught my reflection in a gilded, floor-length mirror. It was me and yet it wasn’t. Pale, with rosy red, plump lips… but something else wasn’t right. I marched closer, realizing my hair was the color of toast—a mane full of blonde ringlets pinned to my head. I studied the reflection. Sure, I’d highlighted my hair but this was different. The sun couldn’t have lightened it that much and it didn’t feel like a wig. They dyed my hair and possibly permed it! What the hell was going on here?