Chain of Gold (The Last Hours #1) - Cassandra Clare Page 0,138

narrow shoulders. She seemed entirely composed. Cordelia envied her confidence.

“Thank you,” Cordelia said breathlessly, as the carriage began to move. “The dresses are absolutely lovely—you didn’t have to—”

Anna waved her thanks away. “It cost me nothing. A werewolf seamstress owed me a favor, and Matthew helped me pick out fabric.” She raised an eyebrow. “So, which one did you decide to wear?”

Cordelia removed her coat to show the shimmering bronze gown beneath. The silk was cool and heavy against her skin, like the touch of water; the chiffon at the hem caressed her legs and ankles. It was practical, too—her mother had helped her cunningly conceal Cortana in a sheath on her back that ran below the material of her dress.

Anna chuckled approvingly. “Deep colors are the right ones for you, Cordelia. Claret red, kingfisher blue, emerald green. Sleek lines and simplicity, none of this silly frou-frou everyone’s wearing.”

The carriage had turned toward the West End. There was something exciting about moving toward the heart of London, away from Kensington’s greenery, into the crowds and the life that pulsed through them. “Do we have a plan?” Cordelia said, gazing out the window at Piccadilly Circus. “What we’re going to do when we get there?”

“I will seduce,” said Anna. “You will distract, or at the least, not get in my way.”

Cordelia smiled. She leaned against the window as Anna pointed out landmarks to her: the statue of Eros in the center of the roundabout, and the Criterion Restaurant, where Arthur Conan Doyle had set the first meeting of Holmes and Watson. Soon they were rolling into Soho with its narrower streets. Fog hung like spider’s webs stretched between the buildings. The carriage rattled past an Algerian coffee vendor, the window crammed with the shining brass and tin of coffee cans. Nearby was a shop for light fittings with a shiny new black-and-gold facade on which the words W. SITCH & CO. were inscribed, and past it a collection of market stalls. In the dark, narrow street, oil flares blazed like warning fires, and the cloth hangings protecting the stall fronts flew in the wind.

The carriage came to a stop at last in front of Tyler’s Court. The air was full of smoke and shadow and the chatter of voices speaking a dozen different languages. James and Matthew lounged against the stone walls. They both wore fitted black evening coats. Matthew had added a bottle-green tie and velvet trousers to his ensemble. James had his collar turned up against the wind, his face pale between his black hair and the fine black material of his suit.

Anna threw open the door of the carriage and hopped out, leaving the door open behind her. Cordelia tried to follow, only to find that it was less than easy to move in her new dress. She inched across the bench seat, squeaking slightly, and half tumbled out the carriage door.

Arms braced her before she hit the pavement. James had caught her by the waist. Her hair brushed his cheek and she inhaled his cologne: cedarwood, like the forests in Lebanon.

He set her on her heels, his hands still on her hips. She could feel the imprint of the Herondale ring he wore against her side. He was staring, and Cordelia realized with a jolt that she had left her coat in the carriage. She was standing in front of Matthew and James in her new dress, with nothing else to cover her.

She could not help but be conscious of how closely the dress clung to her body. The fabric over her hips was so tight that she hadn’t been able to wear a petticoat beneath it, only her combination and a light corset. Anyone could see the shape of her waist, the swell of her bosom, and even the silk draped across the curve of her stomach. The narrow sleeves slipped down her shoulders, uncovering the tops of her breasts; the weight and softness of the material was like a caress. She felt elegant in a way she never had before, and a little wild.

“Cordelia,” said Matthew. He looked slightly stunned, as if he’d walked into a wall. “You look different.”

“Different?” Anna scoffed. “She looks stunning.”

James hadn’t moved. He was looking at Cordelia, and his eyes had darkened, from the color of a tiger’s eyes to something richer and deeper. Something like the gold of Cortana when it flashed in the air. He exhaled and let her go, stepping back. Cordelia could feel her heart beating