Miss Morgan

Fifty

Once we're dressed and ready to go, we walk out into the sunshine where we're met with Lenny driving the boys in a stagecoach. "Ladies." Lenny smiles kindly at us.

Then John hops out of the coach to greet me and god damn he looks so good. I don't remember the last time I saw him all suited up like this. I want to stare and gawk at him but then I remember that I look like Count Dracula's undead wife and I want the world to open up and swallow me whole. John looks devastatingly handsome and I look like a Halloween decoration.

"You look incredible." John lifts my chin and kisses my cheek and it makes my insides do backflips. I feel all girly and frilly and gooey. It's disgusting.

"I look like a wealthy lunatic. Do you see this hat?" I flick one of the feathers that keeps flapping around my head. John only laughs and guides me into the stage coach with a hand on the small of my back. Inside, I'm greeted by Dutch, Hosea and Arthur.

I notice Dutch's face heating up a bit sitting next to Molly but I can't tell if it's from anger or lust. I hope they can hold it together tonight. A small part of me is looking forward to dancing and fireworks with John. If Molly ruins the only perk of tonight I will send her back to Ireland myself.

Dutch hands me a glass of champagne. "Lighten up, Ivy. You're looking a little lost."

I take large gulp. "We look ridiculous." I smirk and the boys burst into laughter. It's clear they've been drinking all afternoon since they left us. I'm a little jealous. John threads his fingers through mine and gives my hand a little squeeze.

"I've never been to a ball in my life." Arthur chuckles.

"Nor have I, if I am bein' honest." Dutch pours another glass.

"I used to quite often." Hosea smiles. "There could be fine pickings."

"Oh no, no, no, no, no pickpocketing." Dutch shakes his head. "We are here to make real contacts."

"What kind of contacts?" Arthur asks.

I down my first glass of champagne and Dutch pours me another, thankfully a little fuller this time since he's not paying much attention.

"Well I don't know. We'll find what we can. All I know for sure is we are going to a party at the mayor's house and the guest of honor is the worst crook in town." The boys burst into another fit of laughter. "I'm sure that we will find something."

"Okay." Arthur wheezes a laugh and we all raise our glasses.

The coach pulls to a stop outside a ridiculous white mansion with pillars and marble behind a tall gate where we're greeted by a handful of guards. John climbs out and offers me his hand to help me out to the ground. "M' lady." He tucks my hand into the crook of his arm and smirks at me with a glint in his eye. I can't believe he's mine again.

"Gentlemen." A guard greets flatly. "I'm afraid the mayor does not allow guns at official functions, after last year's incident." He eyes the gun on Dutch's hip. I guess we still look a little rowdy. We hand over most of our weapons and leave them at the gate with the guards. They don't need to know I still have three throwing knives hidden in my boots. "Luca here will take you to Mr. Bronte." He gestures to a servant nearby. "I believe he is expecting you."

"Follow me, Gentlemen." Luca tells us with a whiny Italian accent and leads us into the house. There are priceless statues and paintings and every bit of the house is white or gold. It's so disgustingly over the top. "This way please, gentlemen. Signor Bronte will be so pleased that you made it."

"Only because you're here." John mutters quietly in my ear.

"Gross." I lightly slap his arm.

"We are honored to be here." Dutch tells Luca.