Page 45 of The Cinders

‘Not without me, don’t you dare,’ came the appalling reply.

Barefoot and convinced it was a terrible idea, Xian hurried to his neighbour’s room.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

SIR WILLIAMBlack lay flat on his back in a cloud of fabric, the skirts of a grey gown surrounding him.His broken glass lay above his head, while at his side was further evidence of his fall; a toppled small table, and a ceramic tea set scattered about, the white cups like snowballs against the dark hues of the rug, the scent of green tea coming from the dark stain spreading from the overturned pot, into the fabric of the gown.

‘Sir William, are you alright?’

Xian stepped into the room, and after a moment’s hesitation, closed the door behind him.

‘I have told Margaret that tea is a dreadful concoction, now I shall tell her it is bloody dangerous too.’

‘Are you hurt?’

‘By a tea set?’The man scoffed.‘I’m rather more formidable than that.’

He rolled onto his side, his oversized shirt doing little to conceal his torso.But Xian saw now that he’d not fallenontothe dress as he’d thought, but was wearing the gown.At least partly.He’d only fastened the waist, and so the sleeves hung around him; puffy and embellished with lace.Lady Tian had such a gown in her collection; a dress imported from France, with so many layers her laundress had cried the first day it arrived.

‘Would you like to try it on?’

Xian realised he’d been staring and shook his head.‘No, no.Do you need some help getting up?’

Here, where the light was much better, Xian saw the man’s eyes clearly for the first time.He knew his own violet colouring was unusual, but the Englishman too had eyes like no other; a light jade green, with hints of amber throughout.

‘Not really, but since you’re offering.’A roguish smile played at his lips.‘Rescued by a prince, how wonderful.’

The man was impertinent, and should have repulsed Xian far more than he actually did.But his brazen manner intrigued, and his peculiar comments kept playing over in Xian’s mind.Sir William raised his hand, and Xian clasped it with his own; it was like taking hold of a hand warmer that had just been filled with fresh coals.Strange, considering how long they had both stood at open windows; the night air was temperate.

Xian tugged the man upright.Sir William had certainly not needed any assistance, leaping to his feet as though a coiled spring in him had unwound.He stepped in close, and Xian found himself swamped by the gown.When Xian sought to free his hand, he met a reluctance that had his throat tightening.

His discomfort must have been evident, for Sir William let him go at once, raising his hands.‘I am not fond of restraint either.I meant no harm.’

‘Sir William, you are bleeding.’He gestured at the man’s left hand; smeared crimson over the palm.

‘There’s none on the dress, is there?’Willam peered down at himself, hands still raised.‘Fuck, Margaret will kill me.’

Xian winced at the bold curse and took a step back, escaping the swirl of grey satin to survey the gown.The fabric shone beneath the touch of the room’s lanterns, and shadows shifted in among the folds.

‘Not so far as I can tell.It really is a beautiful dress.’

‘And you are fairly chomping at the bit, as we say in the land of queen and country, to ask me why I am wearing it.’

‘No.I was not at all.’

‘You really are a terrible liar.Which makes me even more curious to know what you are.’

Xian sighed, unwilling to begin this conversation again.‘It is a decent cut you’ve given yourself.’He scanned the room, searching for anything suitable to tend to the injury.

There were several travelling chests, tall and upright, in the far corner.One was open, and another gown spilled from within; another from a far-off foreign court, with flamboyant puffs in the sleeves and tremendous volume to the skirt; the fabric a stunning lemon yellow with violet trim.It bulged out of the chest like an escaping sun.

‘Are these your rooms, Sir William?’

‘William will do.And no.My travel companion stays here, I’m at the end of the corridor, but she knows I love her gowns and corsets far more than she does.She’s playing that dreadful game,Fan-Tan.I can’t abide it, no matter how drunk I make myself, and as I have already fucked most of the players at the table anyway, I thought I’d play dress-ups instead.’

Xian bit his lip, determined not to appear bothered by the man’s obscenities, for he sensed they would only be delivered more frequently should he make an objection.He spied a washbasin, a cloth hanging over its lip, and hurried to where it rested atop a black lacquered cabinet with brass handles.

‘Here we are, we can clean that wound.’