The Tailor and the Prince Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2019 Pelaam

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0073-1

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: CA Clauson

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  To my partner whose dedication never fails.

  THE TAILOR AND THE PRINCE

  Pelaam

  Copyright © 2019

  Chapter One

  At a fast run, Bertie took the stairs two at a time. On the final landing, Bertie took a few seconds to catch his breath and drew out his pocket watch. To his relief he still had two minutes. A summons for him to attend a board meeting was almost unknown. Normally, anything he needed to know about the business he’d be told more informally later in the day.

  With a last deep breath, Bertie strode through the door into the opulent hallway. Most of the heads of departments and board directors wouldn’t even remember that he was also a member of said board.

  Outside the tall, imposing walnut doors of the boardroom, Bertie hesitated and took a moment to compose himself. He smoothed down his tweed jacket and ensured his knee breeches and socks looked presentable. The outfit was hardly board material, but Bertie felt that he looked respectable enough.

  With a quick rap on the door, Bertie opened it and went into the room. As he’d feared, he was the last to arrive. Charles Blackwood, the company’s owner and board president looked up at him with piercing green eyes from beneath bushy grey eyebrows, but said nothing.

  With a quick trot across the floor to the immense table, Bertie took his seat along with board members and department heads, just seconds before the copper grandfather clock chimed the hour.

  With a sideways glance, Bertie looked at the president as he rose to his feet. The older man’s lips twitched in a half-smile, before he composed his features, stood tall, and looked down the table.

  “Welcome, everyone. I apologize for the short notice of this meeting, but I have great news for the company.” There was no mistaking his excitement and Bertie wondered just what had made him so happy.

  Leaning forward, Bertie focused more intently on what was being said.

  “As you know, our dress department is the envy of many of our rival department stores. We offer the best materials and expert seamstresses. Some of you may know I’ve been negotiating with a prince in Japan whose silk is regarded as the best in the world. I’m delighted to report that we are favorite to sign a contract with him.”

  A ripple of applause went around the room and Bertie clapped louder than most. He knew just how much hard work behind the scenes had gone into that last sentence.

  “When will you know, sir?” Bertie asked.

  “I have a ticket on an airship and will leave in a couple of days.” Charles glanced around the gathered audience. “However, we are in competition with Lalleyman and Willis. They, too, are hoping to complete the contract. But Prince Ichirou prefers our store, Blackwood and Son.”

  “That’s wonderful, Father.” Bertie slapped a hand across his mouth, instantly regretting the words escaping. His father disliked him mentioning their relationship in situations like this, but he was bursting with pride for his father’s achievements.

  “Thank you, Bertram.” Charles nodded. “But please remember where we are.”

  “Yes, sir.” Bertie shrank back in his seat, not wanting to be the center of attention, and especially for the wrong reasons.

  “I’ll have everything in place for my absence. I anticipate being gone for about six weeks altogether, but I’ll keep in regular contact with my vice president who will keep you all informed of my progress. Are there any questions?”

  A quiet hubbub filled the room as people talked between themselves. The odd questions raised were addressed by Charles, and after several minutes he drew the meeting to a close.

  Remaining in his seat, Bertie waited for the rest of the staff to file out before going over to his father.

  “Sorry, Father. I got carried away.” Bertie was mindful of speaking formally, since they were both still working, but sometimes it was so difficult.

  “Don’t worry about it, my boy.” Charles clapped a hand on Bertie’s shoulder and squeezed firmly. “I’m rather pleased you’re so excited by the prospect.”

  “You worked hard to earn the friendship of the prince. It’s your just reward.” Bertie smiled at his father.

  “I want you to wear this.” Charles reached into an inner pocket and drew out a medallion. “Until everything is sorted.”

  “There are runes on it.” Bertie gazed into his father’s eyes, suddenly anxious. “Are you expecting an attack of some kind?”

  “The president of Lalleyman and Willis is rumored to use, shall we say, more foul than fair means, to get what he wants. This is an amulet of protection. I gave one to your mother, and I have one for you.”

  “But what about you?” Bertie was about to push the medallion back when his father held up a hand.

  “I’m going to collect mine in a couple of days. Unfortunately, the mage making them couldn’t make all three together. That would have taken too much energy. I’ll have mine before I make my trip. I won’t leave the country without it. I may be over-precautious, but better that than caught out.”

  “Then you keep this for now.” Bertie handed the medallion back. “I’ll be safe enough. I know this one will be attuned to me, but I’m your masculine bloodline. That’ll be enough to offer some protection to you. Please, Papa.”

  “You’re a good son.” Charles took back the pendant and fixed it around his neck, a soft smile on his lips. “I wish you’d find an equally good woman, like I did, and settle down.”

  “Papa, if and when I settle down, there will be no wife at my side. We’ve spoken of this often enough.” Bertie kept his voice soft, but he didn’t censure a disapproving tone. This was an old issue that persisted in raising its head.

  “I know, but an old man can dream, can’t he?” Charles sighed. “I’m an only child, just as you are. I hoped to have grandchildren around me in my old age, especially since we couldn’t risk your mother’s health with another confinement. We both wanted a big family.”

  “I’m sorry, Papa.” Bertie shook his head. “But there will be no wife for me.”

  “No, no.” Charles drew Bertie into a brief hug. “You must be able to live your life as you want. Your grandfather gave me few choices when I was growing up, and your mother and you are the most precious things in my life. Even above the store. I won’t inflict the same narrow restrictions on you.”

  “Thank you, Papa.” Bertie wished he could grant his father’s wish for grandchildren, but the thought of a wife left him cold.

  “Now, let’s go back to work. Get me a selection of your best dress designs, and perhaps you could design something for him. I want to show them to Prince Ichirou. He showed considerable interest in what the silk would be used for if we were successful in getting the contract. Although my seamstresses are talented in sewing, unlike you they have little imagination. I need your talent for design and dressmaking.”

  “A dress for his wife, perhaps?” Bertie asked. “European or traditional Japanese?”

  “No. No wife. He hasn’t yet married. Why not make him a traditional kimono and pe
rhaps a suit showing how we can incorporate the same color into two completely different styles of clothing? It’s summer there. Which means sky blue, leaf green, accented with red or purple would be good colors for the kimono. A dark green silk suit would be excellent for a night at the opera or an evening soiree.”

  His father’s enthusiasm was infectious, and ideas were already taking shape in Bertie’s mind. If there was one talent Bertie knew he had, it was as a tailor. Even as a child, he’d taken to designing and sewing. Many of the dresses commissioned from the store were his designs.

  “I’ll get onto that straight away, Papa.”

  “Good. Now, I need to get some things set in place for my absence, so I’ll be in my office for the rest of the day. I look forward to seeing your designs. Don’t forget, we don’t have much time to create them.”

  “Don’t worry, Papa. I already have something in mind. I’m sure if I work from home in the evenings, I’ll have the garments done before you go. Much better than just diagrams.”

  “If anyone can, it’s you, my boy. Come along. Let’s both get to our work.”

  An image of the kimono Bertie wanted to create was already in his mind. There was much for him to do.

  Chapter Two

  The chimes of the grandfather clock coincided with Bertie checking his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. His father was late. He and Tom, chauffeur and personal manservant to Bertie and his father, had set out to get the last medallion from their family mage. Since his father was due to leave the following evening, the protection was necessary.

  A hubbub outside the drawing room door, caused Bertie to hurry over to see what the commotion was about. Before he reached the door, it flew open and Tom stood there. His friend looked terrible—his face ashen, and a bandage was across his brow. Bertie caught a glimpse of his mother dashing out of the front door, Tom’s mother at her side, before he focused on his friend.

  “Tom! What happened?” Bertie reached out to Tom, steadying the man as his step faltered.

  “We were attacked. It seemed like some … some kind of … of … I dunno, an ‘arpy, I think. I saw a woman’s face, and … and claws.” Tom closed his eyes and shuddered. “She was so ugly. Don’t worry, Bertie. Your father’s going to be just fine.”

  “Come and sit here.” Bertie helped Tom to a chair and then ran to the dresser on which were several elegant decanters. Selecting one, Bertie poured a generous measure into two glasses. On returning to Tom, Bertie handed him one glass, kept the other, and perched on the edge of the chair opposite Tom. “Drink it. Brandy’s good for shock. What happened to Papa?”

  “He’s still in hospital. The surgeon wanted me to stay, too, but I thought I should get back to you as quickly as possible. The surgeon looking after Master Charles had your family mage brought in, so the Master has his own protection now. Between the ring I inherited from my dad, and the medallion the Master wore, the ‘arpy couldn’t directly hurt us. So, she overturned the carriage instead.”

  “Are you sure Papa is all right?” The description of the attack made Bertie’s stomach roil. He took a healthy swallow of the brandy.

  “His leg’s broken, but he’s more angry than he is hurt.” Tom’s tone became a mournful as his expression. “He won’t be on that airship, now. In fact, he won’t be going to Japan at all.”

  “Just what Lalleyman and Willis would want. For us to be out of the running for the contract.”

  “That’s exactly what Master Charles said.” Tom nodded, taking another sip of the brandy.

  “They won’t get away with this.” Bertie stood up. “If Papa cannot go, I shall.”

  “But the prince doesn’t know you.” Tom’s eyes grew wide and he rose shakily from the chair. “The Master won’t permit it.”

  “Papa has no choice. I have the outfits I made, and the designs for the ballgowns, as well as men’s attire. He can give me a letter, proof of who I am. We need this contract. The silk is the best there is. And I will not allow Lalleyman and Willis to get away with this.”

  “If you go, I’m going with you. I’ll not allow you to go alone.” Tom drew himself up to his full height and scowled down at Bertie.

  A wave of affection, and relief, swept over Bertie. He and Tom had known one another since boyhood. Tom’s mother was cook for the household, and a close friend and confidant of Bertie’s mother. Tom had grown up as much a friend of Bertie’s as he had in service to Bertie’s family. His solidity and common-sense outlook were often invaluable to him.

  “Then we must move fast to secure travel papers. You were accompanying Papa anyway, and there are two tickets. We just need to organize me. Let’s call a cab and go to the hospital. I need to talk to Papa and find out who we can call upon to assist in obtaining the correct papers to ensure I’m on that airship.”

  “Then every minute counts.” Tom set down his glass. “I’ll call for a cab. The Mistress and my Ma took the cab I came here in.”

  “I’ll be upstairs, packing.” Bertie set his glass beside Tom’s. “Call me the moment the cab arrives. I’ll have as much done as I can to save time.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tom’s smile wasn’t as bright and heartening as usual, but it was a smile and it served to uplift Bertie’s spirits. That he’d never negotiated a contract in his life was something he’d have to deal with in due course. If he was lucky, his father would be able to pen something he could use, and he could always telegraph him for advice. It would have to do.

  ****

  An hour later, Bertie sat at his father’s bedside with Tom standing beside him. As his friend had said earlier, his father was indeed angrier that he was unable to make the trip than concerned about the effects of the attack.

  Both his mother and Tom’s were already on their way back home, his father having insisted there was nothing either of them could do for him, and that they could return to visit the following day.

  “I should have been more careful.” Charles sighed heavily, a deep frown furrowing his brow. “You were right, Bertram. It was indeed fortunate I had your talisman. That and Tom’s ring were all that saved us from that … that…”

  “I think it was an ‘arpy, sir.” Tom offered as Charles looked up at him.

  “Yes, well, perhaps it was. I didn’t get a good view of it. Speaking of which.” Charles indicated his neck. “Tom, take Master Bertram’s medallion, put it on him, and make certain it’s secure. I have my own now. Not that I think I’m in any danger. I shan’t be going to Japan, or anywhere else for a while.”

  “Well, I wanted to speak to you about that, Papa.” Bertie waited while Tom fixed the medallion in place. “I want to go to Japan. I have the clothes and the designs. I hoped you would write a letter of introduction for me that I could present to the prince.”

  “I’m not sure, Bertram. You’ve never even spent a night away from home.” Charles stared at him, but Bertie held his father’s gaze. He wondered if his own jade eyes, so like his father’s, had darkened the same way as they continued to stare at one another.

  Finally, Charles nodded slowly. “Very well. I always hoped you’d take over as company president one day. If no one from Blackwood and Son goes to Japan, the contract is lost anyway. I believe the prince to be an honest man, but take care around his advisor Takeshi. The man may be a good palace courtier, and trusted by the prince, but I didn’t like him.”

  Bertie considered his father a good judge of character. If Charles Blackwood thought the man bore caution, then Bertie would take care around him.

  “Thank you, Papa. Tom, could you get some writing paper, a pen, and ink.”

  “Yes, sir.” Tom nodded and strode out of the room.

  “Take him with you.” Charles pointed toward the door through which Tom had left the room. “His papers were completed at the same time as mine. I have a contact who’ll rush yours through for you. I’ll pen a letter for him, too. Fortunately, the airship doesn’t leave until late tomorrow night. There should be time. Everything’s r
eady?”

  “Yes, Papa. My designs, and the clothing I made. It’s all packed, ready to go.”

  “Good. Keep them with you. I wouldn’t put it past Lalleyman and Willis to try and sabotage them, since this attack won’t stop us. Hypatis offered to stand down as family mage, and I must admit, he is getting on. Making the three medallions for protection was far too much for him in one attempt, a younger man would have coped.”

  “He does have a very competent apprentice. Hypatis speaks very highly of him.” Bertie had met the trainee mage and they’d become fast friends.

  “I’ll look into it while I’m recovering. Hypatis has served us well, I can ensure he receives a pension, and we can call upon him for benefit of his vast experience. I’ll be glad not to feel useless while this heals.” Charles glowered at his leg, and Bertie smiled.

  “I think that’s an excellent idea, Papa. Now, we must be quick.” Bertie looked up as Tom hurried back into the room carrying the paper and writing implements. “We can’t afford to waste any time.”

  With Tom’s assistance, Bertie helped his father sit comfortable enough to write the letters he needed. Bertie had sealing wax in his waistcoat pocket and was able to get the family insignia impressed on the bottom of both.

  Just as he folded the letters safely away, a tall, thin man came into the room, and strode directly to his father’s bedside. Bertie surged to his feet as the man stopped at the foot of the bed and fixed Bertie with a piercing stare.

  “I’m Dr Hayward. Are you family? Mr. Blackwood needs his rest.”

  “This is my son, Dr Hayward. He’s taking my place on a business trip. His first representing the family firm. Do say he can stay a few more minutes.” Charles spoke up quickly, before Bertie could reply.