"Breathe in."
I grunted behind pinched lips as the dresser at the modiste yanked on the laces of my corset. I'd never had to wear one so tight before, and I was wondering if it would even be possible for Dr. Underwood to make good on his bargain. My waist and ribs ached and my breath was coming short already.
"That's plenty tight, she has a lovely enough figure as it is," the seamstress said with one glance at my flushed cheeks in the mirror. She had a great armful of a deep coppery red fabric in her arms, the gown she'd just finished fitting for my evening at the theater.
I'd assumed Auguste had ordered one dress, but in fact, I'd been fitted for six, all in dark jewel tones that made my pale skin shine. Of all of them, this one had the tightest waist, and I'd already decided that Auguste could go and suck his own blood if he decided he wanted to fit me into something so tight again after tonight.
My breasts were very high. Practically ready to pop out, which was perhaps the point. At least there wasn't a full bustle. I would be able to sit at the theater, even if I couldn't breathe.
"I think we'd better loosen it a bit, Sarah," the seamstress added with a faint chuckle. "I'm sure Monsieur Thibodeaux plans on more than just looking at her."
The dresser, Sarah, grunted, and I gasped as she eased the laces enough for me to take an almost full breath.
"Better?"
I smiled gratefully at the seamstress, Aida, and then held myself still as she and Sarah drew the gown over my head, wiggling me inside and lacing up the back. Sapphire blue beading created feathers that cupped and shaped over my breasts and hips, fluttered along the floor as I twisted and the skirt swished. There was a thin trim of lace along the low sweetheart collar, enough to draw the eye to the high swell of my breasts. The back of the skirt was heavy with drapes and folds, but the front ran smoothly down, making me look a little taller than I really was.
"I look like a piece of jewelry," I said, turning and eyeing myself in the mirror as the women ran their hands over me, searching for any forgotten pins.
"Yes, men seem to like women on their arm that way," Aida mused. "Someone will do something with your hair, won't they?"
I started to laugh and then decided there wasn't quite enough air in the dress for that. "I'm sure." I just really hoped it wasn't Cork because she seemed like she might not leave any hair left on my head.
"Mm. At least you have plenty of it," Aida murmured, reaching up and twisting a dark lock of hair around her hand. "No hairpieces for you. And Monsieur has better taste in dresses than most men, so you'll have jewels tonight too."
I blinked at myself in the mirror, trying to imagine how I might look with my hair done up and my face painted, dressed in jewelry. Maybe Auguste and Amon weren't so different after all. Were they both trying to fashion me into a grander woman than I really was? Did I even mind?
* * *
"Mon dieu, look at you."
I twisted on the stool, a little rouge still on my fingertip from where I'd been dabbing it against my lips.
"Wait, you should have the full effect," I said, rising up. My ankle was sore after so much time spent standing at the dressmaker’s, and I hopped in place, keeping it raised as I turned to Auguste. He stood in the doorway of the suite he'd offered me, eyes wide and lips parted. Cork had just left after brutalizing my scalp into a pretty updo of soft swirling curls, and I'd just drawn a little kohl onto my eyes and dabbed a red stain to my lips. "Was all your money worth it?" I teased, holding out my arms so he could admire me.
Auguste's eyes narrowed, and his smile turned rueful. "Do you hate it?"
"No!"
"Tell the truth, mon coeur."
I swallowed and my arms lowered slowly, eyes dropping to the floor. "It's very beautiful."
"You're very beautiful, and I mean that if you're wearing a sheet, or men's trousers, or a sack, or this gown. I only wanted to do justice to you and spoil you a little."
"A little?" I asked, arching an eyebrow.
Auguste laughed and prowled closer. "Fine. I wanted to dress you up and show you off tonight. Forgive me?"
"I do," I said, because he was honest about it, and if it was for his sake, I didn't mind so much. My breath hitched as he reached me, leaning in and head dipping. "Wait! I haven't finished fussing with my face."
"Your face is perfect, Esther. If your mouth gets any redder, we'll end up leaving our poor doctor alone at dinner," Auguste growled out.
"There's dinner?" I asked hopefully.
Auguste grinned and kissed my cheek, bending a little lower to kiss my shoulder next and then down to nuzzle and nip at my breasts where they were shoved up for probably precisely this purpose.
"Dinner for you," Auguste rumbled. "I'll have mine later."
"You could have it now," I breathed, arching slightly and offering myself up to his roving lips.
"Not without being late," Auguste groaned, standing straight again. "Here, this is for you too. There's a necklace in the set, but I think I prefer to have your throat bare unless you'd like to wear it."
Auguste passed me a long thin black velvet box tied with a crimson ribbon as if it were nothing but a bookmark or a pen inside. The bracelet jostled as I opened it, sapphires flashing against the copper settings, beetle shells and flower buds linked together. Auguste helped himself to fastening it around my wrist as I gaped.
"Those aren't real are they?" I breathed. Auguste only laughed, and I winced, looking up at him. "You don't have to do this. Presents like these. You know I…I want you no matter what."
The clasp snapped shut in the quiet between us, Auguste's face lifting, pupils turning dark, but his expression was soft and open. Which meant he liked what I said in a way that made him want to bite me, but not with the same sexual edge I usually managed.
"Oh, mon coeur," Auguste murmured, hands lifting to cup my face. I'd missed his cool touch, and I sighed into it now, leaning toward him. "If I want to bribe you, I'll do it with sex, I promise. This is only a gift."
I grinned at that and held my mouth lifted for him to bow and kiss softly, amused at the color now staining his lips as if he'd just drank from me.
"Now, off to dinner with us. We have a very busy evening planned." Auguste turned, my hand clasped in his, and started leading me to the door of the suite.
"At the monster theater?" I asked, keeping my eye on him.
"Ah, you dug that much out of Underwood, eh? But not much more, or I'm certain you'd have a million questions for me. You'll like the surprise. Now come."