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Her answer took a moment. “Yes.”

I caught the ends of the cord and worked the knot loose. The bodice had been pulled tight, and the first crossing refused to give. I slid one finger beneath it, and her breath caught. Her rapid, delicate heartbeat was intoxicating. The scent of her skin even more so.

I licked my lips, tasting her kiss. Tasting the sea.

With a tug, I pulled the lace free, and the sudden release drew Cora forward on the seat. Her knees parted around me, and I caught her waist before she could lose her balance. My palms molded to the curves of her body. She was so close. Close enough that I could have leaned forward and pressed my mouth to the narrow strip of skin above her bodice. Close enough to feel every breath she took.

Her hands rested on my shoulders. “Yves.”

My name sounded different in her mouth now. Or perhaps I had been changed by hearing her whisper it against my lips.

“I am trying,” I said.

“To untie my bodice?”

“To remember that we are short of time.”

Her fingers dug into my coat, and when she did, I wanted her mouth again. Wanted it with an ache that bordered on hunger, although hunger was far too simple a word for what she had awakened in me.

I returned to the laces. One crossing. Then another. The black bodice loosened beneath my hands until I could see the black linen of her shift. My knuckles raked over the softness beneath the fabric. She inhaled sharply. I ground my teeth and forced myself to finish.

“If you keep looking at me like that, we are never going to make it to the gardens. So turn around,” she instructed me.

I swallowed a grin and turned to face the opposite window. I fixed my attention on the dark curtains and attempted not to imagine what was happening at my back.

A hopeless endeavor.

“Alright. I’m done.”

Cora had pulled on the red gown, but the front remained open, its long black laces hanging loose on either side. I swallowed hard. Everything I had imagined in the dressmaker’s shop had been woefully inadequate.

“Well?” she asked.

I realized I had been staring.

“I see you require assistance,” I said.

“I believe we established that.”

I knelt in front of her again. This time, Cora opened her knees for me, and my restraint nearly fled the carriage. I resorted to naming the parts of a ship in my head as I threaded the black cord through the first eyelets. When I reached the middle, I wrapped the laces around my fingers and pulled.

Cora slid forward. “Yves!” she exclaimed. Her hands landed on my shoulders once again. There was no jolt of the carriage to blame. No practical reason for it. I simply wanted her near me.

“This isn’t how the maids do it,” she reprimanded.

“I should hope not.”

I tied the laces, then looked up at her and found her grinning. “If you ever require assistance, I will make myself available.”

“You’ll regret that when I’m ringing for you twice an hour.”

Slowly, I pulled her hair back and pressed a kiss against the hollow of her throat. “No, my dear, I will not.”

Now was as good a time as any to add the finishing touch to our outfits. I pulled The Devouring medallions from my pocket and handed one to her.

“I suppose this is part of another excellent plan from the Duke of Valemer?”

“Yes, but tonight, I am not the Duke of Valemer.” I slipped one cord over my head and tucked the medallion beneath my shirt, which landed accusatorily against my bloodstone. “Just like you aren’t Miss Ravenwood.”