Captain and a Corset (20 page)

A pair of Navigators arriving at the Solitary Chamber dressed as Roma gypsies was certainly something unusual. The Illuminists didn’t travel in wagons like a common man such as himself. One good thing about there still being serfdom in Russia was that it made it easy to spot outsiders. Sergey waited long enough for the couple to disappear behind the doors of the Secret Order, then hurried off to wake up his friend who ran the telegraph office. Information was worth money, but only if it was fresh.

The Solitary Chamber was small. Used to the blocks and blocks of hallways that the London one had, Sophia found herself rather disappointed—except for the sense of relief that came with seeing the seal of the Order on the large double doors. Bion had pounded on the door.

“I just hope someone is home. These outposts are often deserted during the winters, and it’s still early enough that no one may have returned yet. Winter lasts longer this far north.” Bion knocked again as the last of the villagers made their ways home for the night. It left the small town deserted, the homes all shuttered now that the sun had set. A prickle of suspicion touched her as she looked up and down the streets. There was absolutely no one in sight. Since it wasn’t too cold, it was odd. It was like no one wanted to be seen.

“Why are the streets deserted?”

Bion wasn’t keeping his back to the streets for long. He continued to watch every possible approach as he knocked again. “This is Russia. Most of the people are serfs and the landowners like them obedient. Drawing attention to one’s self isn’t wise when you are owned. Anyone suspected of plotting rebellion will be shipped off to Siberia. Solid evidence isn’t a requirement, so it makes it wise to disappear as often as possible.”

“That is barbaric.”

Bion shrugged. “Many corners of the world are. But there is also adventure if you are willing to abandon the notion that Britain is the only place with anything worth experiencing. Life can be bigger than the confines of the society you were raised in.”

“I’ve noticed that.” And honestly, she felt she was better for it.

The door suddenly cracked. “The church is at the other end of town, gypsies.” Without their pins, the doorman wouldn’t open the door for them.

“We are Illuminists. Navigators.”

Bion stuck his foot inside the doorway, wincing when the man tried to close it. “We were shanghaied by Helikeians and need assistance.”

Sophia wasn’t sure if the doorman believed Bion or not, or if it was just pure response to the authority in Bion’s tone that made the man pull the door open. Bion didn’t bother to discuss the matter further. He crossed the threshold with a determined stride, taking her with him.

“I need to see your Chief Guardian immediately.” Bion was already moving down the hallway looking for the office. “Where is he?”

“Another two doors down, but you shouldn’t go in there just now…”

Bion didn’t listen. His grip remained firm around Sophia’s wrist as he headed straight for the door to the Guardian’s office. He applied a quick rap with his knuckles before opening it.

“I told you. I ain’t no Helikeian. I was shanghaied. It’s the truth,” a man argued. He was facing the Chief Guardian and didn’t turn around.

“Who are you?” the man behind the desk demanded. He was an older man with spectacles perched on the end of his nose. His face was lined with wrinkles and his waistcoat was ten years out of date with worn patches at the tops of the pockets.

“I am Captain Bion Donkova. This is Miss Stevenson, Navigator trainee. We require immediate assistance.”

“Captain Donkova, I am conducting a very sensitive investigation into the pirate attack upon one of our vessels.”

“If it was the Crown Jewel, I can provide you the details of the matter.”

The Chief Guardian stiffened and the man facing him turned. Sophia gasped, recoiling as she recognized Mr. Graves.

“Oh, they know right enough, since they were on the pirate ship that done the deed.” Mr. Graves had abandoned his shipboard attire in favor of something that looked almost respectable and he pointed a finger straight at them. “They are pirates. It was these two who put an end to your son.”

“This man is a member of the pirate crew.” Bion didn’t have any difficulty standing up to him. He stalked across the office toward Graves. “You really believe you can accuse us?”

Mr. Graves didn’t back down. “You’ve got gall, I’ll admit that, for thinking you could get away with pushing the Guardian’s son over the rail. Poor bloke was only twenty-six.”

“We were escaping when that happened,” Sophia interrupted.

“See? See there?” Mr. Graves shook his head. “She admits it.”

“Of course she does,” Bion snapped. “And it was your finger that pulled the trigger of the rifle that shot him. As Illuminist members, we’ll be happy to make a full report of what happened aboard the Soiled Dove and your part in it.”

“Enough,” the Chief Guardian shouted. “For all I know, you are all in league with the Helikeians.”

Sophia jerked around to argue with the man but the words never crossed her lips. Tears glistened in his eyes, but he drew himself up stiffly as grief clearly tormented him. “I will send for a Marshal.”

Bion slowly grinned. It was a menacing expression and one he aimed at Mr. Graves. “I look forward to it.”

Mr. Graves lost some of his color but he began blustering to cover it. “So do I. Why I’ve got plenty to tell and don’t you think I won’t.”

“In that case, we shall make sure all three of you are here for the occasion,” the Chief Guardian decided. He pressed the earpiece covering his right ear and the door to his office opened. Several muscular men entered, their stiff composure making it clear they expected to act as jailers.

Bion moved back toward Sophia, reaching out for her wrist. She offered him her hand instead. He cut her a surprised look before the Guardians led them down the hallways to a section of rooms. Unlike the London Solitary Chamber, this one had no gates to make it harder to escape from. Only a pair of Guardians stood guard.

Bion’s fingers tightened on her hand. He looked back at Mr. Graves as he was escorted into a room across the hallway and then back at the two Guardians on duty.

“That man is a Helikeian pirate. I insist that he be better secured.”

The Guardian escorting them pointed through an open door. “He will be.”

There was an ominous promise in his tone that perplexed Sophia until she followed Bion through the doorway. The chamber wasn’t really a room; it was more like a prison cell. Beyond the wood-paneled hallway was a room constructed of stone blocks. She felt the chill immediately, making it clear that the stone was thick enough to not warm during the early summer days.

A rattle of chain interrupted her study of the walls and her inattention proved costly. One of the Guardians had snapped an iron manacle around her wrist before she realized his intention.

Bion wasn’t so easy to subdue. He flung away the Guardian who was foolish enough to try and shackle him. The man hit the floor but was back on his feet a second later. Bion was ready for him and his comrades.

“Well now,” the Guardian cooed like he was trying to calm a spooked horse, “here I thought you were worried that we didn’t know how to secure things.”

“Sneaking up on me isn’t a wise idea,” Bion answered, his tone lacking any hint of apology.

The Guardian wiped a handkerchief across his lower lip and scowled at the bright red stain left behind. “I’ve a mind to let the boys drag you down the hall. You’re big but you’re outnumbered sure enough.”

“I am also a captain,” Bion declared firmly. He sounded as if he were on the bridge of an Illuminist ship, attired in a freshly pressed uniform, instead of in a stone prison with chains set into the mortar.

“That hasn’t been proven yet,” the Guardian argued.

Bion stepped up so that he was looking down at the man. “Nor has it been disproven.”

The Guardian weighed Bion’s threat and it was clearly a warning. Sophia could practically taste it. Tension filled the room as the moments felt like they were stretching. She set her teeth into her lower lip, horrified by the concept of being separated. She jerked away from the chain binding her, the iron links clattering. The sound bounced off the stone walls with an eerie effect.

“You’ve got a point there.” The Guardian waved his comrades back. “If you’re telling the truth, you won’t have a problem with me slipping this on you.”

He held up the manacle, opening the twin sides of it for Bion to place his wrist into.

“An incorrect assumption.” Bion moved away from the man, placing himself in front of Sophia. “Miss Stevenson is my trainee. I cannot perform my duty chained, nor would I ever leave her.”

The Guardians waiting just beyond the door frame leaned forward. Bion grinned at them. He whispered something in Russian that made two of them swallow audibly.

The Guardian holding the manacle eyed Bion and the position he’d taken up between Sophia and her jailer. He finally nodded.

“That will be simple enough to prove, but if you open the door, my men will not be leaving until you’re chained up like the lady.” The Guardian stepped into the hall. The door shut with a firm sound before Bion chuckled.

“Have you taken leave of your senses?” Sophia demanded.

He was laughing so hard, he sat down on the bed the room was furnished with.

“Not that I’d blame you,” she offered softly.

He stopped laughing and lifted one dark eyebrow. “I haven’t lost my mind, just the burden that has been weighing me down since I was informed you were missing.”

She jerked her arm up so that the chain rattled. “I do not call this being free from burden.”

He reached down and grasped the chain that was attached to her shackle. He tugged her closer, using both hands to pull the chain.

“I had thought chaining you to my bed in London was a fine idea, and I must confess—” She was forced to move toward him and ended up between his spread knees. He stood up, hooking an arm around her waist. “The fact that we are not in London doesn’t matter. We are back in a Solitary Lodge, hence my satisfaction.”

“You’re talking nonsense—”

Bion smothered her argument beneath a kiss. She hadn’t realized how desperate she was for his kiss. In fact, she was starving for it. Bion was just as ravenous, cupping her nape to ensure his mouth might plunder hers. He claimed her mouth, pressing her lips apart as though he owned her.

She wanted to contest that claim, needed to show him that she was his equal. She had no desire to understand her emotions, only to act upon them. With a soft snarl, she trailed kisses along his jaw and onto his neck. His skin was hot beneath her mouth and smelled undeniably male. The scent was intoxicating. It swept logical thought aside as she tore at the buttons on his vest to open it. Once done, she pushed his shirt aside to kiss more of his bare skin.

Bion caught her, pushing her back. She hissed at him, earning a chuckle.

“That sound makes it seem I’m in danger of being seduced by you, sweet Sophia.”

He pulled his clothing off, the sound of tearing cloth proving how eager he was to be at her disposal.

“Since you enjoy being a pirate so much, maybe I want to be your Grace O’Malley.” She opened her dress but couldn’t take it off because of the shackle. Bion reached for the scarf she’d covered her hair with and sent it fluttering to the floor. He combed his fingers though her hair, grinning with wicked anticipation, then grasping it firmly. He controlled his strength, stopping just shy of causing her pain. There was a gleam of enjoyment in his eyes that touched off a strange reaction inside her. It was a form of enjoyment that she never would have guessed she’d experience from rough handling. It was sharp and intense, fanning the flames of need flickering in her belly. His strength impressed her and part of her liked knowing that he was stronger.

But that didn’t mean she wasn’t in the mood to prove her own worth to him. She reached forward, boldly stroking the front of his pants. His cock was hard behind the worn wool, and she stroked it several times while his lips curled up to show her his teeth.

“I find myself intrigued by the idea of you abandoning your ladylike demeanor.”

She grasped the waistband of his pants and opened them swiftly. One of his dark eyebrows lifted. “And I never truly considered just what sort of skills you might have learned in your father’s tailor shop.”

She pushed the sagging britches over his lean hips and they slithered down his legs. “It was quite the family secret.” She pushed him back and he sat back down on the bed. On some men, it might have been a submissive position, but not Bion. He spread his knees, his cock rising hard and promising from his groin as he watched her with roguish delight.

“No lady should understand the mechanics of a gentleman’s wardrobe?” he asked mockingly.

“Of course not,” she answered.

He reached forward and teased the swells of her breasts where they rose above her corset, then slid his hands down her sides. She had only a moment to lament the loss of his touch against her bare skin before he pressed the sides of her corset inward and the busk fasteners popped opened. Her breasts were free and Bion eagerly cupped them now that nothing covered them.

“Knowing the mechanics of clothing can be very useful.”

He slid one arm around her waist to draw her close. The other hand cupped one breast and held it steady for his lips. She gasped, never realizing just how hot a kiss might feel. Against the soft, pink skin of her nipple, it was scorching. Bion sucked the entire point into his mouth, drawing on it, then teasing it with his tongue. Her clit throbbed with need as she suddenly became a prisoner to it. It was that intense. She was certain she would have denied him nothing so long as he satisfied her desire.

The other side of her desperation sent her reaching for his cock. Once her hand was wrapped around it, he stiffened, releasing her nipple with a little popping sound, then arching his head back. The single lamp in the room was turned to the lowest setting to accommodate their eyes, but she could clearly see the corded muscles along his neck and jaw—the sort of reaction he normally inflicted upon her, the gnawing need that overshadowed everything else so clearly evident in his body.

And she very much wanted to make him twist with it. Memory stirred and she knelt between his spread thighs. She heard him draw in a breath but didn’t look up. She stared at his cock and felt her cheeks warm. It seemed rather odd to realize that she didn’t really know what this part of his body looked like. The skin was smooth and hot, the head of it crowned with a ridge of flesh that circled it and directly on top was a slit. She stroked it, marveling at the texture of the skin.