Page 40 of Veiled in Stars and Silver
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.”
