Chapter 9

Konigsberg, Germany

July 1923

It felt like they'd been waiting for at least the whole day and it was starting to tick Claire off more than a little bit.

She and Fran had been stood (and sat, and stood again…) with the luggage while Niles went and bought them their ferry tickets to take them from Germany to France, and he'd been gone longer than an acceptable amount of time! Where could he have been?!

Was he hurt, maybe? Had he maybe slipped and fallen? Had somebody gotten to him, like a mugger, perhaps? It would be just like their trip for another disaster to happen...

A dark part of her wanted to think that he'd run off and left them there (perhaps having been distracted by some kind of better offer), and she couldn't quite shake off the irritation that left deep in her chest.

She took the time to sit down again as best she could, on a little stretch of wall near where Niles had told them he "wouldn't be long".

Fran noticed her sour mood, and patted her shoulder reassuringly, "He'll be back any minute now, honey – we're not gonna miss this boat, I can tell ya that!"

Well, the comfort was nice but the reason behind it was a little misguided. Claire was impatient to get on the ferry as well, of course, but things had been...better between her and Niles recently. They were still bickering around the clock, but it felt friendlier. More playful.

She was annoyed by the thought of him abandoning them and going off when things were just starting to get good.

But still, she appreciated Fran's words, and she offered her a quick smile.

She might've been about to say thank you, when Fran's eyes were drawn away from her, over her shoulder. They widened.

"Ooh! There 'e is, now! What's he carryin'...?"

With relief falling in her insides like a shower of much-needed rain in a drought, C.C. turned and peered in the direction Fran was looking.

Niles was approaching. It was impossible to tell if he was carrying the tickets or not, because his hands were full...with a newly bought dress?

They stood up again as he approached. The closer he got, the more it was possible to see a beaming smile on his face.

"Did ya get the tickets?" was the first question out of Fran's mouth.

"I did," Niles replied with a proud nod. "They're tucked up in my pocket."

"And the dress...?" Claire pointed at his unexpected purchase. "Tell us you're not gonna smuggle yourself aboard as an old, very ugly woman!"

Niles looked unimpressed, "In actual fact, I was going to give this dress to you."

That took Claire aback to the point where she nearly stumbled over the little wall.

The dress...was for her? She looked, gaping, between it and Niles, hoping for some sort of explanation.

"I figured you might need new clothes to meet your grandmother," Niles continued, gesturing at Claire with the dress. "So I took the liberty of buying this dress for you, Your Imperial Highness."

Oh...

Claire blinked. She hadn't imagined that Niles - or, well, anyone really - would ever buy her anything as a gift, let alone something as nice as the dress!

Niles held it out to her, staging a low bow. It looked different to the comical ones he usually gave her.

Hesitantly, she reached out and took the dress in her arms. She admired the fabric and stroked it with her fingers.

When she looked back up at Niles it was with a hint of a smile.

"Uh...thank you, Niles...this was a lovely gesture," she said. Before realising just how awkward that sounded. "At least, as long as it's not full of spiders or anything..."

Niles took on a feigned look of offence, straightening up.

"Your Imperial Highness! I would never!" he cried. Then he appeared to think, and reached out for the dress again. "If you don't want or like the dress, I can simply–"

Claire pulled it away before he could take it, "You'll do no such thing!"

Niles let his hands drop, and he grinned.

"That's just what I thought," he said. He then reached into his inner pocket and pulled out three tickets. "Anyway, I see no sense in standing around any longer. How about we all get on board?"

The two women liked the sound of that and bent down to pick up their cases. Fran stopped Claire, however, telling her to just focus on carrying the dress.

They then made their way towards the ship, showing their tickets to the guard at the port as they went in.

It was a huge relief to get on board, and to be able to dump their luggage in their cabins – that was another thing: Niles had gotten them separate cabins. They wouldn't have been able to afford it had they not found a rather important amount of money inside one of the cases they'd heisted from the luggage cart of the train.

Fran gave a low whistle as she looked around, "This is the fanciest setup we've seen in a while!"

It was actually the nicest room Claire ever remembered having (the train cabin didn't really count, because it had no beds), but she wasn't about to say that. Her room at the bakery came a close second, because it was warm and came with an actual bed, but it couldn't quite compete with the cabin. It couldn't compete with the room that was going to take her to France, and get her one step closer to Paris, where her grandmother waited...

She looked down at the dress she was still carrying, and realised it was the second time she'd been grateful to him that day – the first one being when he got them Second Class tickets rather than Third Class ones (she suspected that, apart from having paid for the tickets, he must have pulled some strings and schmoozed the ticket-seller to get them separate Second Class cabins on such short notice). Again, not that she'd say so – the man would be insufferable about it for the rest of the journey, and probably well into the future!

That was, if she saw either him or Fran again after meeting her real family-

The thought was interrupted by a set of dark eyes and a beaming smile appearing in front of her.

"Ya gotta put it on, sweetie!" the brunette said excitedly, ushering her behind the room's privacy screen. "We've gotta see how it looks! Come on - you put it on, I'll watch the door ta make sure no one comes in."

Laughing at the woman's reaction, Claire did as she was told.

The fabric of the new dress was so soft, and it fit perfectly over her slender frame. It was incredible how well it had been chosen! She could move freely in it, and it didn't itch at all!

She was busy watching her skirts twirl when she heard a knock at the door before it immediately opened. That was then followed by a high-pitched shriek from Fran and a set of shoes hurrying across the floor, before hands slammed against wood.

"Ya can't come in, Niles!"

"What?" Niles' voice sounded muffled, as though the door was on the verge of being closed again. "Why not?"

"Her Imperial Highness is tryin' on the dress ya bought!" Fran replied. "I'm defendin' her honour!"

Claire bit down on her lip to stop herself from spluttering with laughter at Fran's insistence.

"It's alright, Fran," she called to them. "I'm already dressed."

"Oh," Fran's voice was followed by the sound of a door opening. "I guess ya can come in then, in that case..."

Two sets of footsteps made their way into the room, one pausing briefly to close the door.

"Alright, Yer Imperial Highness. It's that time," Fran declared. "Come on out, let's see how ya look!"

Again, Claire did as she was told.

And Niles had to do everything in his power to stop his jaw from dropping and hanging open. He could consider himself lucky that he hadn't still got his suitcase with him, because he would've dropped that as well and suddenly the last thing he wanted to do was embarrass himself in front of...in front of...

Not "this girl". That title was hardly appropriate when "this woman" fit so much better, like the dress that slipped over her body – like water slipped over the rocks of a waterfall. It suited her perfectly, and the smile stretching from ear to ear on her face told everyone how pleased she was for it...

His thoughts were only interrupted by Fran loudly producing what could only be a squeal and clutching at her heart.

"Oh, Yer Imperial Highness! You look beautiful!"

"Beautiful" was an understatement, but Niles couldn't make the thought move from his brain to the mouth that was failing him as Claire walked towards him and Fran.

The blonde even gave them a twirl for good measure, "You like it?"

"I love it!" Fran was at her side in no time at all, looking over the cut and the colour, and every detail in between. "It suits you better than...well, anythin' I've ever seen a woman wearin' before in my whole life!"

The brunette then turned to Niles. He knew what she was about to do, and he begged his brain to get back into gear and please, dear God, form a coherent sentence!

"Whaddya think, Niles?"

And there it was. His cue to behave like a rational person, and not some gibbering idiot whose IQ depended on whether or not someone else in the area was wearing a skirt.

His brain decided to come out of it slowly, but that was better than nothing.

"Ah, yes...beautiful...you look."

Both Fran and C.C. exchanged an amused look and Niles mentally kicked himself. "Beautiful you look"? What was he? An inarticulate buffoon? Or maybe a prehistoric Neanderthal? Either way his flair for words had been notoriously absent.

Not wanting to lose any more face in front of the two women – who were smirking at him – and finding the feeling of his boiling hot face rather unpleasant, he cleared his throat and, needing to find something to do with his hands, tucked them into his jacket pocket. He barely noticed he'd begun to rock himself on his heels.

"Aha," hummed C.C., arms crossed over her chest and amused smirk etched on her face, "Thank you for your compliment, sir."

"Uh... yeah... don't mention it. Anyway I... I'll... uh... go up on deck," he stammered, pointing over his shoulder, towards the entrance to the cabin. "I think they'll start serving dinner soon and I... uh... I'll be going now…"

He gave a few paces backwards as he spoke, feeling the uncomfortable heat expanding and overtaking most of his body – his face was probably beetroot at this point.

He had to get out of there before they mentioned it. He was already humiliated enough as it was, and he didn't think he could stand any more.

Not that he knew what he'd do once he'd had enough. Probably just overheat and then melt into a human puddle. And, in all honesty, it didn't sound like such a bad Plan B idea.

Especially seeing as Claire was still looking at him, this time apparently eyeing his feet in particular. Now, what could she possibly want? Surely she'd let him go peacefully now that she and Fran had had a good laugh over his...predicament (all the while giving a certain amount of thanks to God for not showing any more of his "predicament")?

He needed to go before that happened. But he couldn't refuse the "princess" if she wanted him to stay.

"Yes, Your Imper–?" the words came out rasped, from his throat so rapidly turning into a desert. He coughed, swallowed and rectified the problem. "I-I mean, yes, Your Imperial Highness? Is something wrong with my feet?"

It was the first thing out of his mouth that had the most made sense in a while. And Claire wasn't laughing (Fran still was, quietly to herself, but she was trying to calm herself down).

"No, sir. Your feet are actually rather sprightly, compared to the rest of you," she grinned. "If you use them and hurry, you might get to the head of the cafeteria line."

Niles' mouth opened and closed one, two, three times...

But he said nothing. Nothing at all.

It was a most comical sight for Claire, who up until that moment had never seen Niles completely speechless. Yes, she'd won plenty of their little verbal sparring matches countless times, but she'd never left him speechless. If anything, he would make a tactical retreat with a grumbled comment under his breath or a pointed glare and a sharp "fine" on the side, but this time...

This time he merely left.

Mouth shut, hands tucked inside his pockets, face the colour of the new Soviet flag and eyes cast to the floor as he turned on his heels and hurried out of the room.

Both Claire's and Fran's eyes followed him until the door shut, and they were left to themselves.

Fran blinked, "Well, that was...a little weird..."

Claire didn't want to disagree, but something in her wanted to take it further than that. It wasn't just "a little weird" to her, it was completely unusual! Strange, even!

Niles – usually so calm and collected, even under pressure – hurrying out of there, blushing like a schoolboy who'd just managed to pluck up the courage to give a flower to his first crush!

Even the analogy made Claire feel awkward, though. She'd seen how Niles had been behaving since seeing her in her new dress, but that didn't mean anything, did it? Men got like that over women all the time, it didn't necessarily mean anything...!

But she couldn't help remembering the look on his face. Back when he'd been gaping, before she'd zinged him.

He'd been stunned – stunned by her! That was why he'd seemed so awkward!

She'd found it funny. She couldn't believe that she'd found it funny! Had she not noticed then what was going on, or had she simply chosen to ignore it?!

She didn't know what to think. If it was the former, she might be excused – apart from disgusting remarks (that occasionally bordered threatening) as she went about her business, she had no experience of dealing with male interest. If this was truly that.

If she had known what was going on but had chosen to ignore it...well, she couldn't exactly suddenly "realise" what had happened, could she? How uncomfortable would that conversation be? "Niles, I'm sorry I made fun of you back in the cabin – I didn't know how to handle the fact that you clearly like me in my new dress" wasn't exactly the ideal way to break the ice, was it?

If it was that second one, she had to keep up the pretence until they'd moved past it. It would be more comfortable than doing anything else!

Niles couldn't know that she knew. Or, that she had figured out that he… oh, whatever! She was going to keep her mouth shut about it and pretend it had all gone away.

It would go away. Niles had just been surprised, that was all – it wasn't real interest. As soon as he got used to her looking that way, they'd be back at the zingers, like usual.

Luckily, Fran's reaction kept her in that frame of mind. The brunette knew what had happened was out of the ordinary, ergo, there was an ordinary that they could go back to.

Would go back to. C.C. would start that process right then and there.

"Yeah..." she mumbled. Not her strongest acting ever, for someone who was desperately trying to pretend she didn't know what was going on. "Weird..."

It was a relief that Fran didn't seem to pick up on it, and she waved her hands dismissively as she started to go about her business in the cabin, putting away luggage and checking on a few select items.

"Well, I'm sure he'll get over it. He's probably overworked himself into a kinda exhaustion. But we're on board now, we can take some time off runnin' all over the place and let ourselves relax."

That sounded like a plan! One that would mean some much-needed time away from Niles and the added bonus of being able to tour the ship that would be their home for the next few days.

"Sounds like fun," C.C. said timidly.

"Let's get goin' then!" replied a noticeably livelier Fran moments before looping her arm through C.C.'s and pulling her along and out of their cabin.


"Would you like some more wine, sir?"

The waiter's question made Niles start — he'd been lost in thought. He looked around, taking in the previously blurred and fused surroundings as they became more defined. He was sat at one of the main restaurant's outside tables; an empty glass of wine sat right in front of him, as did an empty packet of cigarettes. When had he smoked them all? He wasn't a regular smoker...

It must have been some time in the last few hours, but he couldn't remember any of it to be certain! He couldn't even blame it on the wine – as strong as the stuff was, it'd take more than a glass to get him that out of it!

Although, after what had happened, being out of it didn't seem like such a bad idea...

He allowed the waiter to pour the wine, considering asking him to simply leave the carafe he'd been serving it from, but thinking better of it at the last moment.

But as soon as he picked the glass up to continue drowning his sorrows (and his awkward embarrassments, such as they were), he could only stare at it.

He couldn't bring himself to get as drunk as it took to keep the feelings at bay! And that had been the only thing he could think to do – the only thing that gave him a distraction, from the humiliation he'd suffered back in the cabin!

She'd seen him stare and then go as red as a cooked lobster...she was never going to let him live it down!

That was, if he could ever live with himself! How could he do this to his beloved – the one person he said he would always love like nobody else? He was slowly betraying her, little by little, and he hadn't been able to stop himself!

He was a cad. A bounder and a cad, who'd never deserved such a beautiful love in the first place! Even if Claire was also sweet and kind, witty and intelligent...stunning...

And there he was, doing it again! What the hell was wrong with him?!

He'd had women before — heck, he'd been a regular at St Petersburg's brothels — but he'd never ever felt anything for them. Those girls, although pretty, were only distractions, meant to satisfy carnal needs. His heart had belonged and would always belong to the Grand Duchess Chastity-Claire. He'd promised this silently to himself the night he'd saved her and her grandmother from the revolutionaries.

He'd had no problem whatsoever to keep his promise to her — actually, it was one of the few he hadn't broken — but since meeting Claire...

Since meeting Claire…what?

They had a thing going — a well-established routine of playful insults and witty zingers. There was a rhythm to it; a pace they followed. Sometimes she was infuriating — her attitude, her hard-headedness, her clever retorts that would leave him utterly speechless and made him feel like a jabbering idiot...

He'd thought her to be a bit of a necessary evil, but the longer he knew her, the more he grew to like the young spitfire of a woman that would have to pass as the only one he'd vowed to love...

And the more he thought about it, the worse he felt. Dressing Claire up as his beloved and making her talk and act like her?! What kind of sick whim had allowed him to do that?!

The very thought was suddenly making him feel ill. Claire wasn't the Grand Duchess, and he was trying to put her in her shoes...

She wasn't a replacement. You couldn't replace the truly important people in your life, whether they were there anymore or not!

He forced himself to have some of the wine, hoping it might do something else with his stomach. It didn't – if anything, it made the sickness feel worse.

He deserved to feel worse. He'd betrayed the one person he'd promised to never move on from, and allowed another woman to take her place in the eyes of everybody on the planet, practically...

He didn't know if that was a worse betrayal than letting himself like Claire or not. They seemed to come hand in hand, in his head, ready to make him despair at a moment's notice.

But what on Earth could he do about either of them? Apart from smoking and drinking, both of which, he was starting to realise, really didn't seem to help in the situation at all?

Still, he figured that drowning his sorrows in alcohol was better than bluntly facing the ugly truth. Grasping the glass' stem in his hand, he downed the last of his wine and indicated for a nearby waiter to pour him another.

This time, he also asked for the carafe to be left there, and for a nice snack to be brought to his table, as well as a brand-new packet of Lucky Strike, which he tore open the moment it was given to him.

Eating, smoking and drinking weren't going to solve his dilemma, but they sure as hell served to briefly distract him from his troubling (guilty) thoughts.

Claire couldn't be thought about as a woman, he told himself as he lighted a new cigarette and took a long drag on it. She was a tool — a cog in the machine. A vital cog, yes, but a cog nonetheless. He needed the money, desperately, and this was the way to get it.

It weighed on him, of course, no matter how he tried to put it — it made him feel guilty. So bloody guilty...

Why couldn't he be a bit more like his father in that regard? The bastard had squandered their family's wealth and, when things got nasty, he'd taken off with the first young thing that had crossed his way, leaving his sons and wife to deal with the consequences of his acts. Niles hated the man, but he sort of admired his capacity to continue living without having any sense of repentance for what he'd done. His conscience simply didn't exist — the moment was now and people were tools, and that was that.

It would make all of Niles' life so much easier, if he could just learn to be like that! No more caring about other people's feelings – heck, no more thinking of other people as people! Everybody else he saw, he would have something to gain from, without giving anything back in return...

And he wouldn't care. Not one jot.

But it was impossible. It made him crease up inside with guilt, even thinking about it!

He could hear his father laughing at him about it in his head, too. About how he'd always been weak and had never wanted to have any fun. And now look at him...

He truly was pathetic, wasn't he? Sat there, unable to deal with any of the feelings going on in his head and pushing them back like that would solve anything!

Although, his mind was grasping for alternatives. At least his current three vices were within reach and were keeping him from falling completely into a pit he'd never climb out of!

So he grabbed some more of the food that he'd ordered and swallowed it down, followed by a gulp of wine. He was starting to feel a little more lightheaded, but he had a long way to go before he'd stop feeling anything at all for a while...

It certainly wasn't enough yet to keep out the noise and the movement of all the couples dancing on the deck. The ship itself was rather luxurious (it had been very lucky of them to find so much money in one of their ill-gotten cases, otherwise they'd have had to have taken a more economical, less comfortable ship), and the young rich couples had taken advantage of the space available.

Rich couples, he thought to himself bitterly. He looked at them, and he saw how his life had been before all the troubles began. And how it all might've been, had his father not tossed them aside like unwanted toys and given it to some giggling little piece on the side...

They knew nothing of what it was to go without. They had their wealth still and weren't going to lose it because of their bastard fathers. They only had one love, and no complications...not like his complications, anyway...

His eyes scanned the crowd, and all the smiling faces of people having fun...of Claire having...

Wait a minute, what?! Claire?!

He blinked hard to clear his vision, but she was still there. Beautiful as ever and being twirled by some...muscular young man! He was...certainly handsome, with a charming grin and a spark in his eye...

Niles hated his guts already.

The pair looked like they were having a good time, and that made him burn up more than throwing wine down his neck into his already tempestuous stomach did.

Who did this man think he was, just asking a woman he didn't know to dance?!He can't have met her before - there was no way!

He was probably a wealthy playboy of some sort. Maybe a businessman's heir, or a noble of some kind who hadn't been displaced. He was probably going around all the girls, too, trying to figure out who had the least experience, to look for an easy bit of fun to take back to his cabin (or suite, because God forbid he only had one room to himself!) for the night...

Niles knew the sort. In certain places he'd been the sort (as much as he could've been, with practically no money) – but here, he wasn't going to let this stranger just come along and sweep Claire off her feet (even for a short while)!

He had to get over there. Ask her to dance (not even give the slick charmer the satisfaction of asking if he could cut in), and then...

And then he'd see. He had no plan, other than that. The most important part was the dancing.

So, he rose (slightly unsteadily) to his feet, and started to make his way over.

She saw him coming, confused and maybe a little concerned, but she didn't stop dancing. He wondered how pathetically drunk he looked, even if he wasn't drunk – not yet, anyway, the night was young. He probably smelled terrible, too, after all those cigarettes...

And yet it didn't stop him, even though she was beautiful, her dance partner looked like he could give her everything, and he was...just a mess.

"Claire? Might I be allowed to have a dance? With you, I mean..."

The way he added that at the end made him want to kick himself, but he couldn't lose face in front of Claire's would-be charmer. He had to stand his ground.

And if he was humiliated again, he was sure he could flag down another waiter - they'd certainly have retrieved the carafe he'd been commandeering by now...

He kept his expectant look on Claire (well, he hoped it wasn't too expectant, he didn't want to make her think he was pressuring her, even if he wanted her to know that he really wanted to dance with her), even as the other man took a step forward, folding his arms and looking intimidating.

"Wait a second, who the hell are you?" the man demanded to know.

It would've succeeded in being intimidating to most. But the wine had given Niles something akin to Dutch courage, and he wasn't going to back down just because someone who thought himself so superior was the one trying to get his hands on Claire!

If anything, it made him want to fight harder.

He puffed out his chest and took on a defiant look, "I'm the man she is travelling with. Not that I owe you any kind of an explanation."

That visibly ticked off the other man, but Claire had to bite down on the inside of her lip.

She couldn't help being...oddly amused by how Niles was behaving. It wasn't like him at all, to do something like that - she didn't think she'd actually seen him dance once!

But he'd come over and asked her so...sweetly...

And then he'd immediately stepped up to face the more-than-slightly boring man she'd been dancing with!

It was so...protective...

There had never been a man in the life that she could remember, in any capacity. Not until he'd come along – if that was the right way of describing how she'd kind of stumbled into his and Fran's lives...

She'd never imagined that a man could be so protective. Not like he was being right then - obviously, she'd seen it before when he'd taken her to leap from the train - but this felt different.

And it...it was warming, to her. It made her feel safe, in a weird kind of way that she'd never imagined before.

Between it being so endearing and the way he was so determined to defend her from this other man that she hadn't even found out the name of yet, there was only one possible answer that she could give to his request.

She – cautiously and carefully, not wanting him to think too much about what had happened before – put her hand on his shoulder.

"I'd love to dance with you, Niles."

The "L" word was out before she could really stop it, but she hoped it would get caught up in her acceptance and he wouldn't notice it.

He certainly noticed that she'd agreed. His face lit up brighter than the sun, and it warmed her again inside.

Not that she could say so to him outright, even if the smile on her face was (embarrassingly) getting wider at his expression...

It was the almost opposite reaction to how her previous dance partner suddenly looked. His previously wide smile had dropped, and he now looked annoyed.

Annoyed that she'd drop him for some apparent nobody in no time, just because he'd asked.

"Hey! That's not fair – what about me?!" he tried to barge past Niles to face Claire. "I was with you first!"

The man's arrogant tone and fierce insistence irritated Niles. Claire had already said that she wanted to dance with him – the other man had had his turn! It was time for him to learn that when a woman had made up her mind, he had to respect that!

He took another step towards the man, stopping him from getting completely in Claire's face by blocking him.

Whatever happened, he wasn't going to let this pig hurt Claire. She hadn't done anything wrong by wanting to dance with someone else!

Especially not if that someone else was him.

"Technically, sir, she was here with me first," he told the other man sternly, bringing his arm up to his chest. "But that doesn't matter, because either way, she's made her decision–"

"Don't touch me!" the other man snapped, shoving Niles' arm away. "Who the hell do you think you are?!"

"Who the hell do you think you are, to get in a woman's personal space because she said no to you?" Niles retorted sharply. "She isn't yours to make decisions for!"

Claire held her breath, feeling protected by Niles again, but at the same time worrying about what the other man might do. She didn't want a fight happening over something as small as this, especially when it could've been avoided!

Although, something fluttered oddly in her stomach, when Niles had mentioned her being...anyone's. Not that he'd meant it that way, of course!

The mere thought just...sent an odd buzzing through her.

That was immediately quelled when the man she'd unfortunately chosen to dance with narrowed his eyes at Niles.

"What? So she's yours?" he asked, more than a hint of threat in his voice. "You make all the decisions?"

Niles gritted his teeth — Claire wasn't his, and he certainly had no business choosing who she could or couldn't dance with. That was her call to make. His job, however, was to ensure that her choices in the matter were respected.

After all, wasn't she the supposed Grand Duchess Chastity-Claire? Wasn't he supposed to treat her as royalty?

This little self-important, beau wannabe was getting too big for his boots and was overstepping a line. When a lady said no, then that was that. There was no arguing about it. If even Niles himself – aka, the Grand Poohbah of Cadland – could understand and abide by that, then so could this bourgeoise pig.

"I don't believe one person makes decisions for another," he replied carefully. His voice was low, signifying how ready he was to prove himself in a fight if need be. "Try getting that into your skull."

"The only thing heading for a skull will be my fist, if you don't clear off right now," the other man growled. "I was busy here and you're ruining it all!"

That made rage flare up in Niles' chest. So, the man really had been trying his best to weasel his way into Claire's undergarments!

It was only the presence of the woman herself that stopped him from punching the pig out right then and there!

If she was supposed to be the Grand Duchess, she would not be one for violence.

Although, she wouldn't exactly be the type to simply watch as her honour was insulted, either! Surely she'd expect him to do something about that?

Part of Niles hoped she'd ask, because after the other man's little confession, he wanted to hurt him even more than he had done when he'd first seen him.

She wanted to rush in – to break it right up and to somehow get it through to this other man that she was not some toy that he could simply pick up and play with, whenever he wanted!

That was the way he seemed to be treating all women, just currently...

But just as it looked like Niles might challenge him to an actual fight (or else take him by surprise and hit him first), another pair of heeled shoes clicked over, and another brunette head appeared in the conversation.

Fran! Had she been a witness to the whole thing?!

"Alright, you two!" Her voice sounded like she meant business, and she began trying to usher everyone around her off in different directions. "Break it up, now! There's nothin' to see here!"

But the man she'd truly been hoping to get rid of simply turned his angry glare on her, after it had warmed up using Niles and Claire...

"I will do as I please, woman. And that includes finishing the rest of the dance that I am owed..."

That seemed to be it for Fran, because the brunette planets both of her hands on each of her hips and glared back at the man. He towered above her, but this didn't seem to rile her up — she looked ready to fight, if need be.

"Listen, pal, these two over here are married," she said, pointing between Niles and C.C., who (after a second of confusion) quickly caught on to what their friend was trying to do. It was brilliant, and an easy way to get rid of the brute without making a fuss.

The last thing they needed was to get in trouble when they were a stone's throw from their destination.

"She's Mrs Claire Osinov for ya," continued Fran, "Respectable wife and soon-to-be mother. Right, honey?"

"Indeed," replied C.C., quickly catching on what their friend was doing and moving to wrap an arm around Niles and dropping a quick peck on his lips, "We are expecting our own bundle of joy in seven months!"

Niles, who couldn't afford to be stunned by the act, instead bottled that feeling up for later and played his part. He wrapped an arm around Claire's shoulders, just as she had done, and took her hand as it rested against his chest.

He tried not to think too hard about how that made him feel. Or how right he knew they looked. Being left alone by this man depended on it!

"Indeed we are," he agreed instead, managing to stick the apparent "interloper" with an accusing glare. "I'm sure the time will fly by, and we'll have our actual little one soon, though..."

For the first time, the other man looked uncomfortable.

He shifted on the spot, "You never told me you were married..."

Claire stiffened for a moment, having to think rapidly about the one detail she hadn't been able to cover up.

But eventually something presented itself. A plausible answer...

"Do I need to tell you, just for a friendly dance?" she asked him in return. "One that was to end when my husband came to get me?"

Her words seemed to silence the other man, at last. There were a few silent moments during which his mouth opened and closed a few times, but then, realising he was the one out of place, took a step back.

"Apologies, Mr and Mrs Osinov," he said in a clipped voice before nodding curtly and walking away, probably to chase after another woman.

The quiet instant that followed gave Niles to compose his thoughts.

They'd done it. They'd gotten away with it!

They'd had to pretend to be married, and they'd done it so well (he could still feel the ghost of Claire's lips on his) that other people had believed it!

Fran gave them a half-smirk as she glided off the dancefloor, away from them, "Yer welcome..."

You're welcome? Niles blinked. What did she mean by–

His thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat. Someone stood very close to him still.

Claire, who still had her arm around him and was now looking at him expectantly.

"What was that before, about a dance?" she asked. If Niles had looked any closer, he might have seen that she could feel her mouth drying up and was on the brink of swallowing.

Her question made time suddenly catch up to where it should've been, and Niles suddenly recalled everything that had gone on before.

"Oh!" he said, clearing his throat. "Um...absolutely. If, um...if Her Imperial Highness will allow me to escort her onto the dancefloor...?"

His use of the formality amused Claire, who took the arm he'd offered with the phrase. In truth, he'd done it to remind himself of why they were there, but she wasn't to know that.

Instead, they made their way a little bit into the crowd and slowly started to dance.

It had to be slowly – Claire apparently didn't know a lot of the steps.

"Having a little trouble, Your Imperial Highness?" he asked quietly, waiting for her to give an indication (in this case, she pulled a face) before taking her by both hands to start to teach her. "Here – let me help you learn. You'll need to know how to dance, when we reach Paris..."

Claire felt her breath nearly catch in her throat when he took both of her hands, but she held it in. He was right, once she was in Paris and most likely surrounded by nobility and other members of high society, she would need to know how to dance – the sooner she learned, the better.

And after Niles had been so determined to protect her from the angry man, and had asked her to dance so sweetly, she couldn't think of anybody better to teach her.

She had absolutely no experience of any kind of formal dancing. Niles could see that easily, as he began to lead her through the basic steps of a waltz, keeping her in time as she stumbled over the steps. He led her gently and they shared small (perhaps slightly awkward) laughs as they apparently fumbled, compared to the others out on the dancefloor.

Luckily he remembered how most dances went (otherwise they really would be stuck), even though he had not attended a ball in so many years...

He'd often imagined himself at balls, dancing with his beloved...

The thought must have distracted him from the dance, because he stumbled where he shouldn't have, and the smile dropped from his face.

Claire caught on right away, and frowned, "Is everything alright? You tripped more than I did, just then..."

He couldn't tell her what he'd been thinking about. How could he? Not only would that mean admitting how he felt, it would also mean telling her that he was angry at himself for it.

He was betraying the one he loved – would always love – by even comparing the two!

Claire wasn't the Grand Duchess. She never would be! And as much as he liked her, he had to stop falling for the pretence that they were going to put on in front of the Dowager Empress.

He couldn't do this anymore – he had to get away, before he fell in too deep and couldn't get out.

Part of him feared he already had…

He released her hands, cleared his throat and nodded.

"Uh...yeah, I'm fine. It must've been a dip in the floor, or...or something. You were really good and this was fun, but now I really...have to go. I'll see you and Fran in the morning!"

Without another word, and before Claire could ask what was going on, he turned on his heel and rushed out of there, disappearing through the crowd.

"Wait, Niles!" Claire called after him, reaching out and trying to go after him, dodging dancing limbs and peeking over the tops of heads to try and keep an eye on where he was...

But it was no use. After a couple of times, she'd lost sight of him completely.

He'd gone, and he'd left her there alone.

Claire didn't understand – they'd been having a nice time, she'd thought! It hadn't even really been uncomfortable, even after what had happened earlier in the day...

Why had he run off like that?! Did he like her or not?!

Was...was it possible that she'd been wrong? She couldn't have been, could she? She knew she didn't have that much experience when it came to men, but she wasn't blind!

The thought...hurt. And it made her angry. It wasn't fair of him to just take off and leave her with all this confusion!

She sighed to herself and ran a hand through her hair. The entire night had been a bust. It was about time it came to an end, and maybe a better day would begin.

A day in which somebody wouldn't just drop her for no reason!

Feeling the anger boiling away in her heart, she marched off the dancefloor and back to where Fran was sat, enjoying the music and some wine.

"Have you got the cabin key?" she asked, obviously and openly irritated. "I feel like going to bed early."

Fran frowned deeply at her in concern, obviously worried and confused about what could've happened to change her attitude after basically one dance, but she retrieved the key from her purse.

"Here ya are, sweetie," she held it out to Claire. "I'll try ta be quiet when I come in later."

Claire turned to leave, vowing to herself to apologise for her behaviour when she was in a better mood, "Thank you."

But Fran couldn't quite leave it at that (the worry was probably gnawing away already) and called after her.

"What happened out there? Ya seemed fine a few minutes ago..."

Claire halted in her tracks, thought about it, decided she couldn't explain, and shook her head.

"Nothing happened," she said shortly, and started walking again. "Goodnight, Fran."

She was off before the brunette could stop her, getting away from the music and into the quiet felt like relief.

Not enough relief to stop her from marching angrily along the deck's corridors, but relief all the same. The feeling of the metal key in her hand was a relief, too – both were a reminder that she was heading somewhere private, where she could rest and calm herself down in her own time.

She made it to the cabin door at long last, swiftly unlocked and opened it, and then let it slam shut behind her. It might've been late at night, but if anybody woke up because of it, they didn't complain.

That was just as well; the adrenaline in Claire's body was enough still that she'd probably try to take them on!

But it all got channelled into getting ready for bed. She kicked off her shoes (they went messily under the bed), wrestled off her dress (that ended up thrown into a corner), quickly brushed her teeth and splashed her face with some water to give a semblance of washing before going to sleep (she couldn't be bothered to do it properly tonight). Then, she changed into some clean nightwear and switched off the main light, using the light of her bedside table lamp to get into bed.

She pulled the covers back roughly and slipped underneath them, tucking herself up tightly and switching the light off.

The day could not have ended worse, she thought to herself as she closed her eyes. The days ahead could only possibly get better!

And, drifting off to sleep when the last, lingering drops of adrenaline had worn off, Claire's mind could only be filled images of the happiness she hoped would come when they finally made it to Paris.