Veiled in Stars and Silver: A Peter Pan Fairy Tale Romance

Chapter 15

I stood in the large open kitchen area with several of the other women lounging around. Despite it being late afternoon, I still wore the nightgown that they’d provided for me. It was lacy and a lot more suggestive than I was used to wearing, displaying the paleness of my shoulders. The other women were dressed in similar nightwear, some showing more skin than even my attire.

Hook and I had slept in adjacent rooms the previous night. Not that I had gotten much sleep. A yawn escaped me, and I tried to focus on the list and instructions that Hook had supplied for brewing the potion that should locate my brothers.

The captain of the Jolly Roger had left early that morning in search of the last ingredient that would probably take him most of the day to retrieve. I fingered the stone around my neck, biting my lip, my stomach doing strange flip-flops at the thought of something happening to him.

Pushing my worry aside, I refocused on the task at hand. It was my responsibility to make sure the potion was brewed to Hook’s specifications. The pot heated over the stove, giving off an odd whiff of spice and clean linens.

Cora Pearl sauntered over, examining the concoction. “How goes it?”

“Almost done,” I said, a bit of pride filling my chest. This was my first potion.

Cora cast me a studious side glance. “James is a man of honor with the weight of a world on his shoulders. I trust you will keep that in mind, ma chère.”

I straightened. “You don’t believe I’m a woman of honor?”

“I believe you will do whatever it takes to get what you want. James doesn’t have the luxury of choosing between our world and your desires. He knows that. I hope you do, too.”

“And yet he is out retrieving the last ingredient I need to find my brothers.”

“While you selfishly withhold the thing he needs to free himself and all of us.”

“Hook told you about the dagger?”

“Of course he told me.”

I bristled. “If you’ll excuse me, Madame. I cannot afford to make any mistakes.”

Cora turned to leave. “As you wish, ma chère.”

It was true. I was keeping the location of the dagger from him. My uncle had it, and I was pretty sure he’d put it in his safe in his bedroom. That’s where he kept the things he wanted to hide from me and my cousin. Little did Uncle know, I had spied on him on one occasion and discovered the combination.

My teeth sank into my lip. I was holding Neverland in bondage to save my brothers. But what else could I do? I couldn’t rescue them on my own. I needed Hook. I needed someone on my side.

A while later, I lifted the pot from the heat to let it cool. When it stopped simmering, I took a small vial and scooped up the mixture. Now we only had to add the pickleweed to finish it. I shoved the stopper down and grabbed a knife, working a hole into the cork, then added the vial to the necklace with the stone. I’d removed Peter’s acorn button the previous night while Cora and the others dressed me. I couldn’t very well impress the inhabitants of Neverland with it on. It lay on the dresser in my room.

Ivy came to check on me. “Looks like you’re finished,” she observed. I smiled and showed her the potion in the vial.

“Nicely done. Come. James may return anytime. We must find you an outfit that you glow in.” She grabbed my arm and dragged me off to a side room. Shutting the door, she spun, clapping her hands and burying her face in the rack of dresses. “Now, what should we clothe you in?”

“Something comfortable and sensible?” I tried.

Ivy barked a loud laugh. “Ah, my dear. Comfortable and sensible are the enemies of beauty.” She shoved a few more gowns aside before gasping. “Yes! You will look absolutely ravishing in this.”

The dress was beautiful—a white floral print with lace around the edges. Only one side came up over the shoulder, while the other would be completely bare. The fabric hiked to the right and would come well above my knee. It was more revealing than the nightgown I was currently wearing.

Ivy had a wicked grin on her face. “Poor James won’t stand a chance.”

I pulled my nightdress over my head, my heart leaping at the other woman’s confidence. “What makes you think he’d care?”

Her look turned pitying. “If you are going to catch a man, dear, you must be able to read the signs and respond accordingly.” Her nimble fingers hooked up my corset.

In London, I had experienced suitors before—those of my uncle’s choosing—but had taken none of their boyish advances seriously. I’d mostly endured them or found subtle ways to put them off. “Signs?”

“Of desire. The way a man says in his words, in his actions, his looks, with his… body, that he wants you.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

I gave Ivy a blank stare. Had Hook been sending me signals that he wanted me? He was a rake and a flirt, and I figured that was how he acted around every woman.

Ivy sighed as she helped me into the dress, settling it around me and working on the buttons in the back. “He stands ridiculously close to you and acts like your opinions are the only ones that matter.” She bustled over, grabbed the concealer off the vanity, and started applying it to my scars. “Then, he danced the Fur Elise with you. A position of honor he usually saves only for Lady Pearl. Not to mention the way he couldn’t take his eyes off you last night.”

A warmth spread through my chest. “He couldn’t take his eyes off of me?” I said, feigning cool indifference.

“It was verging on disturbing the way he tracked you all evening.” Setting the concealer on the floor, she brushed out my dress, releasing an excited giggle. “Look in the mirror.”

Ivy gripped my hand and pulled me over to the looking glass by the vanity. My cheeks warmed. The gown fit me like a glove, pulling in at the right places to show off my curves and more than a little flesh. A bit of anticipation tingled inside me as I wondered how Hook would respond when he saw me.

“Now we only need to do your hair, add a few accessories, and you’ll be perfect.”

“My boots and my knives are upstairs.”

“Not to worry, dear. I’ll send someone to fetch them.” She marched to the door and called through it before returning. “Come sit at the vanity over here.”

I settled into the plush chair and took in my face in the glass, noting my own flushed cheeks, and the spark of fire in my eyes. I looked beautiful, but not in a proper, pure kind of way. I looked like a woman of desire, and it brought a measure of pride and confidence to me to throw off the fear of my own body and embrace this part of myself.

Ivy, appearing reflective, began combing out my hair, running a large brush through my blonde locks.

“Did you know, before I came to Neverland, I was a renowned seamstress? I made that dress you’re wearing.” The woman threw back her brunette curls and gave me a small, sad grin.

“It”s beautiful.” I gazed at Ivy curiously. “What brought you to Neverland?”

She scowled. “My brute of a husband. Beat me day and night and threatened to break my fingers so I couldn’t make my creations. So I found a way out.”

“And you came here?”

Ivy paused, bobby pins stuck between her teeth. “Of course, dear. Didn’t you know? Nobody comes to Neverland unless they are trying to escape something.” She pulled the pins from between her lips, her hands pulling and weaving through my hair. “Take Madame Pearl for example. She was once one of the greatest courtesans in France, but sadly, time is not kind to those in her profession.”

“She came to Neverland to avoid aging?” I recalled how Tinker Bell had only shown up after my uncle had told me I was going to marry. How I’d been desperate to find a way out of the arrangement.

“This place isn’t what I thought,” I admitted. “When I was here as a child, I believed it was a land of adventure, and everything was simple. Good and evil. Peter and Hook. But now, it”s as if it is all wrong. I was so wrong. Does the past mean anything?”

Ivy frowned as she considered my words. “The past forms us.”

“In all our misguided ways, it seems.”

Ivy stared at her hands as she worked, her brows drawn together. “As young children, we are continually forming our world. Casting off what we once knew for something better, something more correct. I think the problem is that at some point, many of us stop doing that. We treat the past as this precious porcelain doll, meant to be preserved, unblemished. Our view of the past isn’t designed to be a doll kept untouched on a shelf.”

“And if the porcelain doll is completely rotten inside?”

“Oh, I don’t think any doll is completely rotten.”

I studied at the woman. I used to assume that the women at Madame Pearl’s were just as bad as the pirates of this world. But I’d been wrong about that, too.

“What would you do, Ivy? If you could leave Neverland?”

Ivy’s expression became wistful. “When I’m free, I plan on returning to your world. Not that I haven’t enjoyed it here, but I want to find a kind, gentle man that desires me for more than my body. I mean…” She grinned. “He should desire my body, too. Someone ready to commit to life, family, you know, the whole package. I’m not like Cora. I want to experience every stage of life. Even the old, wrinkly ones.”

“I hope you find it.”

“I’ll find it, dear.” She gestured to her curves. “Who can resist this?”

I found myself smiling at the woman’s easy optimism. The door opened, and boots and knives were tossed into the room.

“Don’t move. I’m almost done.” After a few finishing touches, Ivy stepped back. “There. James will drool all over the floor when he sees you.”

She’d drawn my hair up with a bit left to trickle down my neck and rest against my bare shoulder. I imagined Hook coming close, running my fine locks between his fingers, his eyes sparking with desire. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure, dear.” She gathered up the boots and knives, carrying them over to me, and watched as I stashed them inside the hiding places the ladies had taught me.

“You’ve become a true lady,” Ivy said with pride.

“I”m missing a knife.”

I glanced into the mirror. Ivy”s face had gone strangely slack, but I caught the flash of metal in her hand. Alarm rushed through me, and my fingers dipped toward my boots.

Ivy moved in a flurry of skirts, shoving the blade to my throat with one hand, jerking me back into the chair with the other. I sat ramrod straight, not daring to tip forward to try for my boots again. The blade dug dangerously into my skin.

“Hello, Wendy Lady. Enjoying your time in Neverland?” Ivy”s voice was low and deadly.

I saw my reflection become ashen pale in the vanity mirror. “Peter?”

“You are quite the disappointment.” Ivy”s face twisted into a hateful sneer. “I bring you here to kill Hook, and instead, he recruits you as his little soldier. My, how quickly he turned you. A flash of those baby blues, and you”re spreading your legs for him like every other whore here in Neverland.”

“How dare you—” The blade dug harder, and I gulped down my words, though a fire raged in my veins.

“Shshsh.” Ivy pulled the knife ever so lightly across my skin. The slightest bit of pressure, and it would slice me open. “If you will not do what you are supposed to, then what use are you to me?”

“What about the Dagger of Forgotten Souls?” I risked speaking to remind him of the one object keeping me alive.

The knife drifted back over my throat as Ivy”s other hand dipped to my chest. “I need that dagger. You will get it for me.” Her palm closed around the half-silver stone and tried to lift it.

The smell of scorching flesh reached my nostrils.

Ivy hissed and released it. She held up her hand, blistered and blackened, and examined it curiously. “This will be harder than I thought.”

Triumph shot through me, even while I felt bad for Ivy, who would have to deal with the repercussions of the burned hand. “You”re not going to kill me.”

The knife dropped from my throat. “No. I”m not. But you must understand, all of Neverland is at stake. Do you really plan to leave that power with the likes of Hook?”

I rose and faced Ivy. “You have enslaved Neverland, Peter. This…this only proves it.”

“You would trust pirates and whores over me?”

“Apparently, that is the truth, Peter Pan.”

“You want the truth? Ask your dear pirate captain. There are consequences to refusing to do my bidding.”

Ivy”s arms rose, the knife turned inward. Shit. I lunged, gripping the other woman”s arms and jerking back to counter her momentum. We wrestled over the blade, me trying to keep her from stabbing herself.

“Wendy?” Ivy”s face filled with panic as the knife dipped closer to her chest. It was like her consciousness had returned, but her body still wasn”t her own. “I can”t stop it. Please help me.”